Fire and Ice
by SweetVennum64
Summary: What if it had been Bonnie to save Damon from the fatal bite of Tyler Lockwood's fangs? Read and find out! ***Rated M for Smut and Language*** This will be a slow burn story of the Bamon persuasion so if that's not your kinda thing...well...read it anyway, I might change your mind.
1. The Bite

**Hey guys. I come to you again with another Bamon fantasy. I've always wondered what would Bamons relationship have become if she had been the one to save him from his deathbed after Tyler bit him. So...I wrote about it.**

 **Now, just keep in mind that I have borrowed a few ideas from the show but this story is entirely my fantasy so all rules as you know them don't necessarily apply in this story.**

 **This will be a slow burn but be patient with me and you will live in the glory of Bamon bliss by the time I'm done.**

 **This story starts right after Damon rescued Tyler and Caroline from being used in Klaus' ritual.**

 **Reviews are more than welcomed! Encouraged, even.**

 **Disclamer: They don't belong to me!**

* * *

When you live for 170 years, dying sort of becomes a myth. Mortality becomes this made up word created to scare little children into eating their vegetables and going to church, praying to some invisible deity so you don't end up in the fiery pits of damnation.

After a while, vampirism turns you into some spoiled little entitled brat who can't be tamed. The world becomes your little chess board where you're the Master Player, free to move the pieces any way you please and if anyone tries to take your spot, you end them.

You're at the top of the food chain, your throne placed atop the mangled corpses you've piled up and collected for over a century and a half. You smile as you breathe in the smell of copper, the metallic scent of your food source. Eternity is yours.

Or at least it was…like 10 minutes ago…

Damon's standing out in the middle of the forest, the pale glow of the full moon mocking him, providing him just enough light as he stares down at his left forearm where the sleeve of his black Henley is pushed up past his elbow. The skin north of his wrist is an ugly mixture of black and red. Two perfect puncture marks stare up at him like the sunken eyes of so many of his victims. Purple veins of death stretch out around the wound, pallid and thin and as crooked as a reapers long fingers.

Tyler Lockwood bit him.

He tried to be the hero. He tried to do the right thing and this is what he got in return. This is exactly the reason he leaves the lifesaving, broody little rescue planning to his baby brother.

Stefan should be the one to save the damsel in distress. Or, in this case, the neurotic little vampire control freak and her pet boy-wolf who can't control his baser urges to save his own life. Hasn't that little mutt ever heard the phrase: " _Don't bite the hand that feeds you"_? Or more appropriately: " _Don't bite the hand that saved you from being a sacrifice in a blood ritual being performed by a psychotic wannabe werewolf/vamp hybrid."_

Apparently he's never heard of either of those things or else he wouldn't be standing here with two holes in his arm that fit the size of Tyler's fangs perfectly.

But he's ignoring the main point. The more obvious point. There's only one explanation as to how he ended up here. It's the same reason he's ended up in most of the fucked-up situations that have plagued him for the past year.

Elena.

Elena is the reason for his most recent feud with his brother.

At first, Elena was just another game to him. An opportunity to beat his brother this time and take the girl.

All his life he's known that Stefan was the favorite and at first he looked at Elena as a form of redemption.

Growing up, their mother had doted on Stefan. Constantly bragging on her little genius Steffy and how he'd grow up to be an investor like their father. And Stefan, being the good son, would follow their father around watching his every move and hanging on to every word eager to prove their mother right.

Their father had decided that Stefan would inherit the family business of banking instead of leaving it to Damon being that, in his fathers words, "Damon is a loose cannon and has shown no sense of discipline since the day he was born."

Subconsciously Damon thinks that in some small way he'd always sought his fathers approval.

He'd even let his father talk him into joining the army solely to prove his father wrong, show him that he had restraint, he could abide authority.

And then he skipped out after only a few months because fuck that. And yeah, discipline had never really been his thing, true enough.

Damon was never a _go with the flow_ kinda guy. His instinct was to go against the grain and if that made him an outcast then he had to become accustomed to being written off and ignored and he just figured that would be his life.

Until he laid eyes on Katherine Pierce.

He'd just arrived home after abandoning his post and she'd been traipsing around the grounds with Stefan at the time, of course. But when she'd spotted him approaching them and they'd locked eyes, there was this spark of mischief there and the tiniest hint of a smirk at the corner of her lips.

She'd looked him in his eyes. She'd actually _seen_ him. Her eyes raked over his body hungrily and it had done wicked things to him.

He was in love.

At first, in Damon's mind, this was a competition. Who would get the girl?

He'd been pretty confident at first. Greeting her with breakfast in bed before Stefan even had the chance to wake. Taking long walks with her through the garden. Showering her with gifts and flowers daily. He'd given her some if his best work, damn it.

But all of his efforts hadn't seemed to take her attention off of Stefan in the slightest. She'd still visit Stefan as much as she'd visit him even though Stefan hadn't done _half_ of the things for her that he had done.

After a while, Damon started to lose confidence, doubt himself, so he'd backed off a bit. No longer pushing, but only taking what was offered to him.

Thus birthing the love triangle from Hell.

She'd often have them both at the same time. Damon at her throat biting bruises and pinching her nipples to stand hard and pebbled, her back arching off the bed. Stefan buried deep inside her, making her moan deep and throaty in Damon's ear, running her fingers through his hair and pulling and writhing until Damon was so rabid with want he could barely see straight. Then they'd switch, Stefan working her from the waist up while Damon buried himself in her heat.

It went on like that for months, maybe even years. He can't even keep the timeline straight in his own head anymore.

Long story short…the bitch chose Stefan in the end.

So yeah, maybe he just wanted to rile his brother up at first by flirting with Elena. Put another worry line on Stefan's already crowded forehead.

And then he fell in love with Elena, of course he did.

But he also knows he'll never have her, not completely anyway. It's Stefan. She's made it abundantly clear that it will _always_ be Stefan. But that still doesn't keep him from noticing the way her eyes linger on him when she doesn't think he's paying attention. He's well aware of the fact that more and more she's letting him get away with being just a touch inside her personal space. And, of course, she still reacts with a scoff and an incredulous glare when he says something particularly Damon-like and adds the eyebrows in for good measure. She wouldn't be Elena if she didn't do those things, but he can also read the heat under her gaze all the same.

It was the same gaze Katherine would give him just before she'd leave his bed for Stefan's.

The only difference is that Elena actually, genuinely cares for him and has shown him that fact on countless occasions.

That's the reason he's in love again.

And now, Elena is the reason his immortality is now a memory.

His eternity has been snatched away from him and for what? A mortal human who doesn't even belong to him in the first place? He's probably gonna die alone on the floor of his root cellar while the girl he basically killed himself for is somewhere bouncing on his brothers dick. Nice job, Damon.

The wind rustles the dried leaves on the ground beneath him exposing a fallen tree branch to his left. _Just do it…get it over with,_ is the thought that crosses his mind as he eyes the branch. _End it._

He's already been through this once with Rose, he knows the drill. Different book but the story ends the same.

At least he was able to give Rose a nice little dream to send her off peacefully to her death. Maybe, if he's lucky, his brother will peel himself off of Elena's ass long enough to give him a death dream fantasy of his own. If he even decides to tell Stefan in the first place.

He thinks the poetry would be just right if he leaves a trail of his blood spatters for Stefan to follow right up to his rotting corpse, his final words scratched into the stone wall of their cellar.

 _Your wish is my command, brother. You're finally rid of me._

Yeah right. Who's he kidding? It wouldn't be nearly as satisfying being that he won't even be alive to witness Stefan's reaction.

He can honestly say that he couldn't begin to guess what that reaction might be.

Would Stefan's face crumple in pain at the sight of big brothers' lifeless corpse on the floor? Would he grin in triumph now that big brothers hat has been taken out of the running for Elena's affections forever? Or would Stefan just simply set his body ablaze in some generic attempt at a funeral and walk away, unfazed?

Now that he thinks about it, he's not sure he even wants to know the answer, either way. He kinda wants to go somewhere private where he could die alone and no one would ever find him. That way, if he ends up being some floating orb of smoke stuck to hover on Earth for eternity, he won't have to witness the mourning (or lack thereof) of his very limited collection of friends and family. They'd just all assume that he selfishly left them to fend for themselves in the supernatural beacon that is Mystic Falls. Yeah…he could live (or die) with that.

The moonlight hits the jagged end of the wooden branch just right, like a sign from the universe. If he tilts his head he can almost see the suicide note written in the moss at the base of the tree.

 _Jesus, the delirium is already setting in._ He thinks bitterly as he shoves his sleeve back down to cover the carnage that used to be his arm, lip curled in disgust as he continues to make his way back toward home.

The feel of the wind whipping across his face as he runs home makes him feel almost normal again. Like his whole life isn't crumbling before his eyes and he's a little calmer when he finally reaches the Boarding House.

He strains his ears as he nears the house. No heartbeats which means no humans (no Elena). Good because he just can't deal with her self-righteous attitude right now.

Elena and baby bro are still pissy with him for feeding Elena his blood earlier this morning but what the fuck else was he supposed to do? It's like he's the only one around here with some goddamn sense.

Elena was willing to bet her 18 years of life on Elijah.

Elijah Mikaleson. Brother of Klaus Mikaelson. The same Klaus who possessed Alaric and tried to kill Bonnie. The same Klaus who is _this fucking close_ to being unkillable and willing to do anything to get there, including draining Elena dry and splattering her blood all over some bullshit rock.

So damn right he fed her his blood. And he'd do it again in a heartbeat.

Making his way into the house he listens for his brother but all is quiet. He and Elena must still be at the cabin in the mountains enjoying their vomit inducing time together while all hell breaks loose here in the real world.

He heads straight for the drink cart.

If he's gonna die, there is no fucking way he's leaving all his good bourbon lying around for Stefan to piss away. Nope, not gonna happen.

Can a vampire get alcohol poisoning?

He doesn't even bother with a glass, just grabs as many bottles as he can cradle in his good arm, plucking the half full decanter off the lower rack with his free hand as an afterthought, and makes his way to the sofa in the center of the room.

He's already light headed and slightly dizzy thanks to the werewolf venom running through his body. And also…fuck…the pain in his arm is getting worse. Maybe its good he didn't die yet because killing Tyler is suddenly at the top of his bucket list. Fucking prick.

Grabbing up the first bottle, he pops the cork and chugs, leans back against the couch cushions, shuts his eyes and enjoys the burn…

He fights to keep his mind from wondering while also trying not to focus on any particular thing and somehow he still ends up haunted by his victims, faceless and bloody and ready to tear him apart upon his death…

The shrill ringing of his cellphone brings him back to the present and his whole body jerks like he's been electrocuted. He bangs his knee on the coffee table where his legs are stretched out underneath and when the fuck did he end up on the floor? A quick assessment reveals that he's finished 7 bottles of bourbon and he doesn't seem to be in hell so its safe to say that he didn't die of alcohol poisoning.

His cell phone rings again and he should probably answer that now.

He digs the phone from his pocket and answers without checking the caller ID. Whoever it is, is gonna get a piece of his mind for interrupting his night of self pity, loathing and despair.

"What?" He groans, brushing away the mop of sweaty hair plastered to his forehead.

"Damon?!"

Fucking Stefan. Of course. Forever the buzzkill.

"Why haven't you been answering your phone? I've been calling you all night."

Damon's eyebrows crumple, confused frown on his face.

 _All night? What?_ He thinks.

He looks over at the window next to the bookcase and, sure enough, there are tiny beams of sunlight cutting through the blackout curtains and slicing through the shadows on the far wall.

Well damn. Maybe he came closer to death than he thought. He doesn't even remember passing out.

"Damon?"

 _And where the hell is his shirt?_

"Damon?!"

"Jesus, Stefan. Do you know any other words? Maybe I needed some _me_ time. What do you want me to say?"

He hears Stefan's impatient huff on the other end and it makes him smirk. He begins to peel himself off the floor because his mouth tastes like ass and he could really use a blood bag and a shower right now.

"Where are you? We need to talk. It's about Elena."

Damon rolls his eyes because when isn't it about Elena?

"Yeah Stefan. What else is new?"

"Damon, will you quit screwing around? I can't…please…just. Where are you?"

Damon can hear the crack in his voice. His brothers desperate tone tugs at something in him and he pauses midway to the kitchen. Long buried emotions of family and bond and love being stirred and he's reminded of a time when Stefan used that same tone when they were boys to try to coerce him into sharing his bed because he was afraid of the dark and Father wouldn't let him keep the lanterns burning through the night.

He shuts his eyes, leaning against the wall in the main hallway.

"I'm at the Boarding House. What is it?"

Stefan exhales, heavy and loud in Damon's ear.

"Can't talk here. I'm on my way." The line goes quiet as Stefan disconnects the call.

He hears the screech of Stefan's tires in the driveway, the heavy _thunk_ of his boots on the pavement as he makes his way up the porch steps and through the front door.

"Damon?!"

Damon rolls his eyes and stays silent where he's freshly showered and sipping bourbon laced blood at the kitchen table, feet propped up and crossed at the ankles in the empty seat next to him.

On the outside, he's the perfect picture of worry free.

Stefan, his hero hair, and his Levi's fill the archway near the kitchens entrance and Damon fights to keep the look of indifference on his face when he sees the puffy red skin under his brothers eyes, blood soaking the front of his t-shirt turning the once grey material an angry black. A layer of thick mud covering his $800 boots.

"Oh come on, Stefan. Don't tell me you're a Ripper again. Can you at least try to put your teeth away until _after_ we kill Klaus?"

"Damon…he took her."

"Ok I'm gonna need a few more descriptive words in there, Brother. Maybe drop a name or two for the hell of it."

"Klaus! Damon…Klaus. He took Elena."

Stefan sags back against the door jamb like he has no energy left and drags his fingers through his hair.

"What?!" Damon stands from his chair and steps toward his brother. "How the Hell did that happen? Weren't you two supposed to be at the cabin writing love poems or some shit?"

"We were. I don't know how he found us but he did. Threatened to burn the whole cabin down around us unless Elena left with him."

"And let me guess. Judging by the look of you, you tried to fight him, got your ass kicked, and he snatched Elena and ran. Am I leaving anything out?"

Stefan's face crumples and Damon could tell he was seconds from losing it.

"Elena was the last missing piece, Damon! This is not a fucking joke! Elena is probably dead! Don't you get it?

Damon schools himself and tries to stay calm as he looks at his brother.

"Look Stef…I'm sorry, okay? Just calm down and listen to me for a second."

Putting both hands on his brothers shoulders he walks him toward the kitchen table and pushes him gently into a chair. Grabbing an empty glass from the bar, he fills it with bourbon and places the glass in front of his brother

"Drink."

Shaking his head, Stefan looks up at his brother. "We need to find her, Damon. I can't.."

Reclaiming his seat next to his brother he places a hand back on Stefans shoulder.

"Look at me, Stef."

He waits while Stefan gathers himself and when he finally turns to Damon he can see that he's still barely holding himself together.

"Elena is fine, Stefan. And we'll get her back.. Got me?"

Stefan looks at him, confusion and barely controlled anger behind his eyes.

"Are you drunk or am I missing something here? Last night was the full moon. Klaus got all the components to the spell last night. In what universe are you thinking Elena is okay and not lying de-"

" _Do not_ finish that sentence Stefan." Damon grits through his teeth and fights the image of Elena lying lifeless and cold that's trying to creep up in his head.

"Please just shut up and trust me for once, alright?"

Damon bores his eyes into his brothers, willing him to trust him for once and when Stefan finally gives him a shaky nod, Damon has no choice but to accept that as a win for now.

Leaning back in his chair, he rubs his hands together.

"So. First things first. I already freed Vampire Barbie and Lassie last night so unless he had a couple of spares lying around, he couldn't have performed the ritual anyway, right?"

"You did it? You actually got them out?"

There's a new flare of hope in Stefan's eyes and it makes Damon smile.

"Dare you doubt me, Brother?" Damon says, standing once again.

"Now drink up." He says, pointing at Stefan's full glass still sitting in front of him. "We gotta go see about a witch."


	2. The Discovery

When Stefan had called Bonnie this morning asking for her help, she'd basically told him to go to hell. She's been nose deep in enough vampire drama to last her a lifetime and she's sick of it. And anyway, the only time the Salvatore's even acknowledge her existence is when they need her to dig them out of a hole that they'd created themselves.. She's tired of feeling used and under appreciated. She cant help but wonder what her Grams would think of the way she's allowed the vampires of this town to use her as their own personal pawn. She's tired of tarnishing her grandmothers existence, her entire generational existence for that matter. She's done with it all.

Or she was. Until Stefan mentioned Elena's name.

Truthfully, the only reason she's been entertaining the Salvatore's instead of burning them to ashes and walking away, is Elena.

Elena is one of her oldest friends and she can't just walk away from that.

Needless to say, Elena has made some pretty reckless decisions over the past year, but those decisions can't erase the 16 years of friendship and loyalty they share.

Sitting cross legged on her living room floor, she's paging through one of her grandmothers grimoires looking for a locator spell strong enough to overpower Klaus' witch for Elena's location. She'd tried every basic spell she'd known and she just couldn't get through. Whoever this witch is that Klaus has in his pocket is way more powerful than she is ready to tangle with right now.

Running her fingers through her hair, she exhales sharply. Already exhausted by this whole ordeal.

How did this become her life? How did she become the savior of Mystic Falls? When did this become her responsibility? She's always stayed on the straight and narrow, never daring to stray off course and yet she seems to always get the shitty end of the stick while the people around her reap the benefits of her efforts.

The doorbell startles her and she ends up shattering a vase in the kitchen.

She berates herself for allowing that vulnerability to slip through as she slams the book shut and heads for the door.

She's greeted with ice blue eyes and a cocky grin and her magic itches to be released.

"Well, are you just gonna stand there and ogle me all day or invite me in, Bon?"

Her eyes narrow down to mere slits. She is already irritated by the sound of his voice. "Damon…"

Stefan steps in front of his brother and gives him a withering stare before he greets her.

"Bonnie. I know we're the last people you wanna see right now so thank you for agreeing to this. We owe you more than we can ever repay.

Bonnie and Stefan both pretend not to hear Damon's scoff.

She gives Stefan a forced smile and steps aside. "Come in."

She leads them to the small kitchen table on the far side next to the bay window where she's got various books and talismans strewn over the surface.

Stefan takes a seat in the chair closest to the window and leans forward to rest his elbows on the table while Damon hovers in the kitchen doorway, eyes darting around aimlessly. He'd never been invited into her home before today.

"You find anything?" Stefan asks, voice low and tired.

"I've been trying to find her since you called. The witch Klaus is using has to be a century old, at least. I can't break through her cloaking spell without a stronger force."

"Is there anything else we can try?"

"I don't know, Stefan. I'm still pretty new at this, ya know?" Bonnie exhales and takes the seat across from Stefan.

"Come on, Bonnie. You opened a tomb full of 500-year-old vampires and you can't do a simple locator spell?" Damon supplies, still hovering in the kitchens entryway.

Bonnie glares at him across the room. "Yeah. I had the help of my Grams. You remember her right, Damon? She _died_ for you. How's Katherine by the way?"

Damon bares his teeth and his eyes flash a dark red.

Stefan speeds over to him, one hand pressed lightly against his brothers chest.

"Damon…" And Stefan tries to convey with his eyes, _what the hell?_

Damon glares at his brother for a second before he finally exhales. His eyes return to their normal color as he backs away into the next room.

Stefan turns to give Bonnie an apologetic smile and shrug. He makes his way back to the table and sits.

"I honestly don't know how you put up with him for a hundred years." She shakes her head. "I'd have killed him a _long_ time ago."

"After a while you kinda get used to it." Stefan grins. "Also…lots and lots of bourbon."

They both smile and Bonnie feels more at ease now that Damon's no longer in the room.

"So…" Stefan taps the book sitting open in front of him. "Basic spell won't work, huh?"

Bonnie shakes her head.

"Any other ideas?"

"Well. I'll definitely need a stronger connection, that's for sure. Whatever magic this is witch is using is unlike anything I've ever felt before."

Bonnie grabs a small leather bound book from the top of the pile and drags her chair closer to Stefan.

"You see this one? The Essence of Life? This one would allow me to make a direct connection to her, open a line between us and wherever she is but I'd need more than an article of her clothing or her toothbrush. I'd need something more vital. More… _her._ Like…"

"Blood.." Stefan answers quietly.

And Bonnie gives him a look, confirming his guess.

"Well, I don't have vials of Elena's blood just lying around, Bonnie so…"

His face changes as it visibly clicks. "Jeremy…"

She nods."If we can't get Elena's blood, her closest relative would be the next best thing, yeah."

He's already standing to fish his phone from his pocket, heading for the front door. "Excuse me." He nods his apology as he heads to the porch for privacy and dials Jeremy's cell.

She decides to get busy gathering the other ingredients needed for the spell.

She's standing on the very tips of her toes trying to grab the Sage from the top shelf of the China cabinet when Damon's hand suddenly comes into view, snagging the sage easily. She yelps and stumbles backward, her back slamming into his front and he immediately takes a full step back, raising his hands like he knows she wants to set him on fire.

"I was just trying to help, Bon, you looked pathetic."

It would only take a second. A quick flick of her wrist and he'd be a flaming pile of nothing on the floor and she'd be rid of his smug grin and sarcastic comments for good. She considers it…pictures it in her mind as she glares at his unflinching, blue eyes piercing her as he stares right back…challenging her.

Her fingers twitch. She feels the power of her magic tingling in her fingertips and she's almost sure she's gonna make this moment the end of Damon Salvatore.

And then, as always, Elena comes to mind. She imagines the pain that would shine in her best friend's eyes when she realizes Bonnie killed her boyfriend's brother.

And just like that, control overtakes anger once again and she exhales.

She reaches out, snatching the container easily from his fingers and storming off in the direction of the kitchen.

"You are _such_ a pain in the ass." She mumbles as she pushes past him.

"You're welcome!" He yells after her.

Stefan comes back in while she's got her head buried under the kitchen cabinets looking for her metal mixing bowl. He tells her that he hasn't been able to reach Jeremy at home or on his cell.

"That's odd. He keeps that thing glued to him like a second skin. Have you tried the grill?"

"Yeah, no answer there either."

He exhales, running his fingers through his hair, pacing back and forth. He's starting to panic again.

"I'm gonna go out and look for him. Are you gonna be okay here with…Damon?"

Almost as if he'd been summoned, Damon appears automatically in the doorway, slight grin playing at the corners of his lips

"Absolutely…" Damon drawls.

Something about the low timbre in his tone makes Bonnie's stomach flip and turn into molten lava.

She bawls her hands into fists at her sides and she sees Damon's eyes drop to her shaky hands.

He finally lets the full grin spread across his face when he drags his eyes back up her body until he's piercing her eyes with his icy ones and says…

"We're gonna have a grand old time, right, Bon?"

She grinds her teeth together as she looks over at Stefan. "Why don't you just take him with you, huh?" Her voice is shaky and her words hold a hint of desperation and she wants to kick herself for it. "Two sets of eyes are always better than one, dontcha think?"

"What's wrong, Bon? You afraid you won't be able to resist unleashing your unresolved sexual desires onto me if we're left alone?"

He's on his knees in a split second, groaning and clutching at the thick strands of hair at his temples while she pops the blood vessels in his brain over and over again.

"No, Damon." She speaks quietly and calmly knowing that he can still hear her perfectly fine through his pained growling and writhing on the floor. "I'm actually afraid that Stefan may find nothing more than your charred corpse on my floor if I'm left alone with you."

She barely registers that Stefan's grabbing at her arms, almost screaming her name.

He steps between her and Damon, blocking him from view and she finally snaps out of it and looks up at Stefan. Her breaths still coming out fast and heavy.

Stefan takes a quick glance behind his shoulder to make sure his brother is still in one piece before he turns back to Bonnie.

"Okay…he deserved that." He says, hands resting lightly on her shoulders. "And I'll take him with me if that's what you want but right now I don't know what the hell is going on out there. I'm pretty sure Klaus' witch knows about the Essence spell and I just have to pray she hasn't gotten to Jeremy before I find him."

He drops his hands and takes a step back before continuing. "I'm also pretty sure Klaus' witch has caught on to what you're doing here by now and she's probably trying to find you too. I'd just feel a lot better if I didn't leave you here alone."

She hears Damon grunting behind them as he stumbles back to a standing position. "So... what's it gonna be, Bon?" He asks, his voice barely audible under his labored breathing.

She ignores him and glares at Stefan. "You better set him straight before you leave him here with me or you might just come back to a bag of ashes." She grits through her teeth before she turns away to resume her search for her mixing bowl.

"Come on, Damon. Why don't you walk me out, yeah?" She hears Stefan whisper behind her and then the distinct thump of their boots as they head for the door.

When Damon returns about 10 minutes later, his eyes are guarded and he can barely keep eye contact with her from where she's standing over her kitchen table trying to tidy up the mess of books and trinkets she'd left there earlier.

 _Wow. What the hell did Stefan say to him out there._ She thinks but stays quiet.

Damon steps just barely inside the threshold into the kitchen and leans against the wall. Head hanging slightly.

It's kinda weird witnessing him in this environment.

This vampire, dark in all the ways seen and unseen from his hair to his eyes, even his soul. Standing in her slightly outdated kitchen with its eggshell colored walls and linoleum floor of the same color. Various pictures of open fields and flowers hanging on the walls. Matching flower-patterned hand towels and oven mitts because her mother had an obsession.

And then you have Damon Salvatore. Standing in the furthest corner of the room, big and uncomfortable with his leather jacket and boots to match, hands buried deep in his pockets, thick black hair hanging over his eyes.

It's like a tornado in a dandelion field.

It would almost be comical if it weren't for the heavy, uncomfortable awkwardness suffocating her in the room.

She clears her throat quietly and tries her best to ignore him while she concentrates on her task.

After she'd finally finished stacking her books and putting them away on the bookshelf she starts in on gathering her trinkets and talismans.

"Hey…I know that tune." His voice low behind her.

She startles slightly, almost forgetting he was there and turns to glare at him. She hadn't even realized she'd been humming.

If he noticed her annoyance he didn't let it be known. "That's a jazz tune, right?"

" _You_ listen to jazz?"

He chuckles. "Well don't sound so surprised Bonnie."

She turns away from him and resumes gathering her things. "It's just kinda hard to believe someone as black hearted as you could listen to something so beautiful without melting or something."

He goes quiet again behind her and she figures wherever this line of conversation was going has reached its end.

She's just about to head to her room to put her things away when she hears him shuffling closer to her.

She whirls around quickly, grabbing his left arm tightly. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He growls low between his teeth and his eyes slam shut as he jerks back, ripping his arm from her hold.

He lifts his right hand slowly and shows her the small gold locket her mother had given her for her 7th birthday. The last birthday that she'd ever saw her. "You forgot one."

She can still hear quiet hissing between his teeth as she reaches for the necklace and her fingertips brush against his own, cold and clammy. She looks at him, and for the first time she notices a light sheen of sweat over his face, dark circles under his eyes.

"Damon. What's wrong with you?"

He looks at her and the usual bright blue of his eyes is dull, almost grey.

"Nothing. I'm fine." He grumbles and turns away from her.

"No." She grabs his shoulder and whorls him back around to face her. She's almost shocked at how easily she's able to maneuver him and notices his slight stumble as she stops him in his tracks. "Damon. This is not nothing, look at you. You acted like I hurt you when I grabbed your arm. What's going on?"

He exhales and closes his eyes. "Bonnie just leave it alone."

She sees that he's clutching his left arm lightly like he doesn't even realize he's doing it.

"Take off your jacket."

"Bonnie.."

"Take it off, Damon."

He looks at her. Almost surprised that she even cares, but complies.

He's shrugs the jacket off and drops it so it drapes over one of the kitchen chairs and spreads his arms wide. "There. Happy? No blood. I'm fine."

She grabs his left arm and jerks the sleeve up and over his elbow.

She feels him tense under her fingers and he goes stone still as he eyes her warily eye his wound.

The skin on the majority of his forearm looks like it has been eaten away. Its black and blue and mangled. She can actually feel the heat of the poison radiating from the wound where it's slightly oozing a thick black substance.

"Oh my God." She whispers, fingertips over her lips. She looks at him, eyes wide with shock. "Damon..is that…?"

"A werewolf bite. Yes." He says as he jerks his sleeve back down.

"But…isn't that wound fatal? I mean…does Stefan know?"

"No. He doesn't. And I'd like to keep it that way, Bonnie. We've got bigger fish frying."

"That bite is going to _kill_ you! How is this not a big fish?!"

He's seriously gonna get whiplash here. "What the hell, Bonnie? Didn't you _just_ try to flambé my brain like 5 seconds ago? Why is my dying such a big deal to you now.?"

And at that point she realizes that she _is_ starting to panic. She's freaked out and her whole body is shaking and she can't catch her breath.

All because she just found out Damon is dying.

She doesn't know what to do with that or how to answer that so…she doesn't.

She turns away from him, pushing her hair back off her face. "We've gotta find Stefan."

"Bonnie! _No!_ You're gonna keep this quiet or so help me…"

She turns back to face him and even though he looks like a mere shadow of himself, the fire in his eyes is enough to send a cold shiver down her spine.

"At least until after we get Elena back."

"Do you even have that long? You look like you're dead on your feet now."

"Well…technically, Bonnie…I _am_ dead."

She rolls her eyes and gives him a shove. He stumbles back a bit and she moves to catch him but he catches his balance before she can reach for him. His glare is murderous.

She drops her hands. Then crosses her arms across her chest awkwardly, steps back.

"This is not the time for your shitty jokes, Damon. Elena is missing and, for all we know, so is Jeremy. We're gonna need all the manpower we can get and you're barely functional right now. You need to get help."

"Jesus Christ, Bonnie! I'm fine!" He steps closer to her, his chest almost brushing against hers and he flashes his fangs, his tongue brushing slowly over them before they disappear again under his gums. She draws in a startled breath and holds it.

"I'm _fully_ functional." He growls.

They stand there for a long moment staring each other down, neither willing to break.

She starts to feel lightheaded and realizes that she's still holding her breath.

She steps back before she exhales and her whole body is still shaking.

"Fine. But if this becomes a problem, I'm going to Stefan."

Satisfied with the her response, his shoulders relax and he gives her his signature bad boy grin.

"Deal."


	3. Road Trip

**Hey guys! It's been a while so I've uploaded two chapters. This one takes place in Stefan's POV after he leaves in search of Jeremy. Hope you like!**

Stefan jumped to the second story ledge on the far side of the Gilbert house and peered in through Elena's window.

Even though he knows she's not there, he almost expected her to be sitting on her bed, scribbling away in that journal she always carries around with her.

He remembers it sticking out of the side pocket of her backpack the first time they met…well, the first time he'd had the courage to speak to her, that is.

Their true first-time meeting is a collection of memories he'd rather forget.

But even with circumstances around their introduction being so damn unusual and crazier than anything anyone could ever make up, for some reason that brown, leather bound journal cradled in her arms has always stuck out in his mind as a beacon for her acquaintance.

Aside from the fact that she was an exact replica of the ex girlfriend he'd shared with Damon more than 150 years ago, that journal of hers was confirmation that he was right where he needed to be. He had to know her.

In his room back at the Boarding House are hundreds of little leather bound books that he'd constantly scribbled in when he was lonely, or missing Damon when he'd gone off to war, or when he was mad at Lexi for making him _feel_ again (that one makes him smile).

And previous to that, he'd had hundreds more at the Salvatore Manor that he'd written in as a boy.

Writing has always been a form of therapy for him, a safe haven. The magic of putting your thoughts, and dreams, and feelings on paper and being able to visualize and touch them was so calming to him and seeing that Elena never let her journal out of her sight, he imagined that she'd felt the same.

He remembers being amazed by the number of times he'd watched Elena as she would stop, open that book, and scribble things down throughout the day.

Sometimes she'd have a tiny smile playing on her lips while her pen flew across the page. Other times she'd wear a frown, lips turned down at the corners. And more often than not, he'd watch silent tears roll down her cheeks while she wrote and he'd burn just a little more inside, smelling the salt in her tears and feeling his heart ache right along with hers.

He imagines those times, when she's alone and furiously brushing tear stains off her face with the palm of her hand, that she's writing about the night of her parents death.

He wonders if she writes about him during those times.

The mystery man who had rescued her from the bottom of Mystic Lake.

The mystery man who she'd begged to _"please save my parents"…_

The mystery man who had let her down in the worst way…

...the mystery man who erased himself from her memory that night because he was a coward and a cheat and he wanted a do over. He wanted to _steal_ his second chance to make a good first impression.

He was sad and damaged that way.

After he'd pulled Elena from the wreckage and called 911, he'd compelled her to forget all details of the man who'd saved her life.

All she'd know when she finally woke was that "a dark figure swooped in out of nowhere, pried the back door open and pulled her to the surface and by the time she'd finished coughing up water and gasping for air, her savior was nowhere to be found and her parents were lying lifeless a few feet away."

He'd stalked the edge of the woods near Wickery Bridge, out of sight, watching and listening to Elena tell every detail of the story he'd planted in her head.

He'd sworn off human blood more than 50 years before, after he'd nearly ripped the heads off of half of northern Virginia, and with his _alternative lifestyle_ choice to feed on animal blood, his compulsions can, at times, be rendered obsolete when practiced on very strong or determined minds so he had to be sure this wouldn't be one of those times.

He'd watched the silver Volvo being dredged up from the bottom of the lake. Watched the paramedics and the coroner as Elena's mother was first placed on a gurney, followed by her father. He'd watched as their bodies, cold and still and lifeless, were covered with white sheets. He'd watched as they both were rolled into the back of a big black van and the sound of the doors slam shut with a finality that twisted in his gut.

He remembers wanting to scream and cry and end the whole world. If that's how he had felt... he couldn't even begin to pretend he knew what Elena could be going through.

The story was over. His compulsion had worked but he couldn't turn and leave. He'd just stood there, watched her as she'd sat in the back of an ambulance. Big grey blanket thrown over her shoulders that looked like it was trying to swallow her whole. She was still soaking wet and her red T-shirt stretched out of shape, her jean shorts plastered against her thighs like a second skin. She was shivering violently but he didn't even think she realized it. Her face was blank and her eyes were staring out at nothing.

The look on her face that night haunts him to this day and he knows he'll never, ever forget it. So, when he'd bumped into her in the hallway at school three months later, he grabbed his moment and put it in a chokehold and he planned to spend every day of Elena's life doing penance for his failure to keep her family whole.

* * *

He easily pops her bedroom window open and slides through. The scent of her lavendar scented body wash and peppermint shampoo immediately reaches his nose and he's equally angry and sad all over again.

Angry at Klaus for coming here and ruining everything.

Angry at himself for not being strong enough to save her.

And sad because even though he refuses to say the words out loud, a small part of him can't help wonder if he's too late and Elena's already dead.

He grinds his teeth together until he hears the bones in his jaws start to crack.

 _Focus Stefan._

He trains his hearing so that he only picks up the sounds inside Elena's house.

He hears the slow drip of water from the leaky faucet in Elena's bathroom. He hears the _wooshing_ sound of the air from the air conditioner blowing through the vents to cool the house. He hears the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen downstairs.

These sounds are all artificial.

He closes his eyes and makes himself listen again.

No heartbeats. No breath.

No sounds of human life.

He heads through Elena's bathroom and out of the door on the opposite side that connects Jeremy's room.

Jeremy's bed is expectedly empty and unmade and the sheets are cold to the touch which means wherever he is, he's been gone long enough to be lost to Stefan. He scans the room and find Jeremy's cell on the corner of his desk next to his sketch pad.

He knows deep in his gut that Jeremy wouldn't have left the house alone _willingly_ without his phone and the already tight feeling in his chest deepens, giving home to a sinking feeling that he's not sure he can fight much longer. Everything he's encountered so far is telling him that he's one step behind, one second too late…

He tries to bury that train of thought as he picks up the phone and scrolls though the call log.

He sees the 3 missed calls from earlier when he'd dialed Jeremy from Bonnie's porch.

The fourth call is a number unsaved.

He hits the redial button and tenses as the line begins to ring. He sucks in breath he doesn't need and holds it as the line connects.

"Yeah?"

The voice on the other end is hard and emotionless, but unfamiliar.

Stefan quickly ends the call and exhales.

It's the last number on Jeremy's incoming call log and he figures it's as good as anything.

He pockets Jeremy's phone and hops out of the window on the other side of the room next to the bed and heads for the sheriff's station.

* * *

Its business as usual at the Mystic Falls sherriff's office.

Layla, fresh out of the Police Academy, works the front desk answering phones and filing paperwork. Ninety percent of the documents filed in those gray file cabinets behind her desk are of gruesome "animal attacks" and "strange disappearances". All suspicious…all unnatural, but it's human nature to shy away from what can't easily be explained away or to cling to whatever lie they're told, no matter how ridiculous, as long as it helps them sleep better at night.

Sheriff Forbes and her daughter, Caroline, are having lunch in the break area toward the back of the building at a small table tucked off in the corner. How ironic is it that the Sheriff of Mystic Falls and leader of the Town Council who secretly hunts and kills the vampires of this town while covering up the murders committed by said vampires is sitting across from her vampire daughter and doesn't have a clue that one of the murders she's recently covered up was a body drained by her one and only child?

This horror show literally writes itself.

Once of the few scarce items that he can add to the plus column though is that if he is forced to say one positive thing about his brothers actions in the past year he'd have to say that Damon's brilliant idea to infiltrate the town council was by far some of his best work.

Not only did Damon become close friends with the sheriff, but he also threw the Council off their trail by helping them find and kill vampires. No way would they guess that a member of the council and a member of one of the Founding Families, was a 160 year old vampire with a vampire little brother, would be helping them kill off their own kind.

Again. It writes itself.

But, if it hadn't been for Damon's sinister, yet well calculated plan, it wouldn't possible for Stefan to just waltz freely into the sheriff's station and right up to the sheriff and ask a favor.

She spots him just as he clears the threshold and stands immediately, motioning for him to stop. Caroline turns and meets his eyes. Confusion and suspicion barely hidden there, but she stays quiet.

As Sheriff Forbes nears him she nods behind him toward her office. He allows her to pass and follows her.

Once they're in her office with the door shut, she motions for him to sit in one of the hard wood armchairs in front of her desk while she has a seat across from him behind her desk.

"Sorry about all that. It's just that this whole thing with Elena has already got Caroline in a funk, I just didn't wanna add to it." She says, scooting closer to her desk, tidying some of the papers on top. "That is why you're here, isn't it?"

"Well…not exactly. He pauses. Actually…it's Jeremy."

She stills where she's stacking manila folders into a pile and looks up at him. "Oh God, what now?" She asks him almost whispering.

"Well, I honestly don't know yet." He lifts enough to pull Jeremy's phone from his back pocket and slides it over to the sheriff.

She looks down at it and back up at Stefan blankly.

"That's Jeremy's phone." He says. "I went over to Elena's earlier to…"

He started to tell the truth. Give her the whole story about the blood spell and their plan to go rescue Elena but thought better of it. Sheriff Forbes has already been though enough over the past few weeks juggling every lead on Elena's whereabouts while also trying to support Caroline and Bonnie emotionally. It would just be too much so he decided to omit... _most_ of the story for her sake.

"…I went over to check up on him and he wasn't there. No signs of forced entry and no signs of a struggle. He was just…gone."

"So. Do you think somethings up?" She's still holding the folders in a tight grip.

"I don't know. That's sorta why I'm here. It's just with Elena going missing, I'm just…really on edge about everything." He says, running his fingers through his hair.

She exhales. The sound that comes out of her mouth could have possibly been a laugh if all hell wasn't breaking loose. "Believe me. I understand." She says. "So what do you need from me?"

Stefan grabs up the phone again and pulls up the unsaved number in Jeremy's phone before placing it back down in front of her.

"Every number in that phone is attached to Jeremy's phone book, except that one." He points down at the highlighted number. "Whoever that person is, is the last person Jeremy talked to. They called him about an hour before I did and the call only lasted a minute and a half."

He leans back in his chair and exhales. "It could be nothing. It could be something."

The sheriff nods, picking up a pen and scribbling down the number on a note pad before standing. "In Mystic Falls…we always err on the side of _something."_ She says, pocketing the piece of paper. "Give me some time. I'll give you a call when I've got something."

* * *

He's heading down the front steps of the sheriff's office about to go over to The Grill in search of, well, anything, when he hears the click of Caroline's heels hurrying down after him.

He's not sure why he expected to get away so easily.

He forces on a smile that feels staked to his face and turns to face her. "Caroline, hey."

"So my _best friends_ brother is missing and you weren't even going to tell me? Great."

Stefan's eyebrows crumple. "How…?"

"I eavesdropped! Of course! What did you expect? You and my mom were doing your little secret sign language thing right in front of my face. Have you guys _met_ me?"

Well…she's kinda got a point there.

He loves Caroline, of course he does. He's the one who helped her through her transition when Katherine turned her and during that time, he realized that she was more than a spoiled brat who craved attention.

She was funny, smart, loyal, supportive and, of course, beautiful. She'd become one of his closest friends because of that.

But she can also be overbearing, animated, overwhelming, anxious, and a bit of a worry wart. And right now, he was feeling a bit of all those things himself and didn't need extra emotional baggage to hold on top of that.

He drops his head feeling a little guilty for being so selfish but this thing with Elena has him so out of tune with himself and everyone around him.

When he meets her eyes again, he's wearing a more genuine smile this time. "I'm sorry, Caroline." And he means it. "I honestly didn't want to worry you. Especially since I don't really know the whole story here either." He pauses and when she still doesn't speak, he continues. "I promise I wouldn't keep anything from you if it were important. Come on, you should know that."

She exhales and he watches as the tense lines in her shoulders finally begin to relax and she gives him a tiny smile.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry." She pouts a little. "I just feel so out of control, you know? There's a psycho hybrid running around kidnapping innocent teenagers, Tyler's on the other side of the world looking for his wolf pack, and you're keeping semi-secrets."

They both chuckle at the last part and he steps closer to her, grabbing both her hands in his own.

"Trust me, Caroline. You aren't the only one losing your mind here. Elena is…God knows where…and I feel like a sitting duck."

She squeezes his hands where they're still interlocked between them and pulls him in for a hug.

He holds her there for a second and hadn't realized that he'd been needing that. A familiar touch, like a small reassurance that everything will work itself out…one way or another.

He pulls back and gives her a tiny nod. "Thanks."

She smiles and he actually feels a little more grounded now.

"I was headed to The Grill if you wanted to tag along."

"What's at The Grill?" She asks, frowning, but follows close beside him as he begins to walk.

"Honestly? Who knows? But sitting around waiting just makes this whole thing worse. I just need to stay moving, active, searching…"

She touches his arm lightly, understanding perfectly what he means. "I get it. Let's go to The Grill."

* * *

Of course, after 3 hours of searching, nothing turned up at The Grill, or the school, or the woods where Jeremy used to cut school with his friends, or the quarry, or Elena's house when they went by a second time _just to be sure._

He hadn't really expected to find anything so it wasn't a surprise. He'd just needed a distraction. And even though she didn't say it, so did Caroline.

They were sitting on a bench at the quad when the Sheriff finally called and they both tensed as Stefan answered his phone.

"Find anything?"

"Got a trace on that phone number you gave me. Traces back to a small motel called The Brookwood Inn, in Charlotte, NC."

They both frown as they take in the information from the Sherriff.

"Charlotte? What's in Charlotte?"

"No clue, haven't found anything yet to link Klaus to Charlotte but I still got my guys looking. I'd say head that way and see what you can dig up."

"Got it. Thanks Liz."

He disconnects the call and looks to Caroline.

"So…road trip?"


	4. Fever

**Greetings Earthlings! So this chapter picks up again with Bonnie and Damon shortly after Stefan left them at her house. The fever is getting to Damon. Can he control his emotions?**

Bonnie refused to believe her luck was this bad.

Out of all the people who could have found out about Damon's injury, people who can actually _tolerate_ him, she had to be the one to shoulder the burden of discovery. And not only that, she has to keep it a secret or else, in Damon's own words, he'll eat her.

Now, of course Damon's threat means nothing to her, he can barely sit up straight, but, she agrees with him so she lets his idle threats fly this time.

This should stay between them. There's already too much piled on one plate with Elena going missing, Jeremy being in the wind, and Klaus' entire existence is just a whole shit show in itself. Adding Damon's impending death on top just feels like overhaul. Especially since the others most likely wouldn't be able to offer any kind of solution that would helpthe situation anyway.

Everything in Mystic Falls derives from magic in one way or another so, either way, this would be solely on her hands. But what else is new, right?

If she's being honest with herself, which she usually tries to be on most days, Damon deserves this. Everything from the agonizing pain to the haunting memories the fever is bound to dredge up, to his slow decline into nonexistence.

He's done enough damage to the world and to the people of this town, hell, for the things he's done to her alone, he deserves this a hundred times over.

One thing she's realized about Damon is that he's _selfish._ Down to his very core, Damon is always out for himself.

Even when he thinks he's doing a good deed, there is always a selfish reason behind it.

The only reason he went out and saved Tyler and Caroline in the first place is because he fed Elena his blood and he knew she'd hate him forever if she'd died and woken up a vampire. So, he saved them to stall Klaus' plan.

It had nothing to do with the fact that Caroline and Tyler are good and wouldn't have deserved to die like that.

He just didn't want to ruin his shot at possibly winning Elena over and stealing her from Stefan.

Selfish.

So yeah, he got what he deserved.

And even with all that said and at the risk of sounding like a complete and total hypocrite, she thinks Damon is a necessary evil. A wild card to balance things out. In a group full of do-gooders, they all need someone who isn't afraid to be the bad guy. And Damon most definitely takes pride in doing so. Relishes in it, even.

He does go overboard at times. Well, _most_ of the time, but when it comes down to it and push comes to shove, Damon will get the job done, no matter what.

And if history is anything to go on, without Damon around to offset the pride and egos, it's either going to be Elena's need to make everybody happy or Stefan's fear of becoming a Ripper if he pushes himself too far that will get them all killed inside a year.

So she's going to make sure Damon does live. For her sake and for her towns sake.

Call it selfish. She deserves a little self-serving at this point.

She's curled up on the armchair next to the window in the living room paging through her 2nd grimoire trying to piece together anything that would help them reverse this.

Damon is stretched out on the sofa across from her, passed out again, finally.

She was _this close_ to killing him herself so she wouldn't have to listen as he went back and forth between moaning and whining to telling her how she's wasting her time searching for a cure that doesn't exist.

Sadly, his theory has been proven right so far. She hasn't found anything remotely close to something describing the effects of a werewolf bite on a vampire or how to reverse it.

But she refuses to believe it's not out there.

When it comes to magic and witchcraft, the most absolute rule is that there must be a balance.

No immortal being is ever _truly_ immortal, every spell has a reversal spell to match, every ailment has a cure.

There is no rule that says any of those things will be easy to find though, unfortunately.

From what Damon explained to her, he has another day, tops, before the venom takes him out so she figures if she stays calm, uses her brain, and Damon stays quiet, she can figure this out before then.

But leave it to Damon to always rain on her parade, even when he's unconscious. His picks that exact moment to start coughing violently from the other side of the room and her concentration is broken just like that.

Jesus, she's really tempted to drive him to the Boarding House and lock him in their cellar until she finds the cure.

"Blooood, Bonnie. I need blood."

He's still coughing between words and he's drenched in sweat. He pulled his overshirt off a long time ago so he's left in his black tank top and jeans, open at the waist because she wouldn't let him remove them completely.

No way was he about to be laying on her couch, sweaty and half naked. Just. No.

The white ace bandage she'd wrapped around his wound earlier is now stained with his blood and black ooze. She's gonna have to change it soon.

"Bonnie..."

His voice is all pitiful and whiney and she plans to never let him live this day down if he survives it.

"I hear you, you big baby. I'm going."

She slams the book in her lap shut and puts it on the side table next to her, stands and takes her time stretching before heading out of the room.

"I imagined a more pleasant bedside manner from you, Bon. I'm slightly disappointed."

She rolls her eyes as she walks past him. "What can I say, Damon? You bring out the Hyde to my Jekyll."

He scoffs but it turns into a violent coughing fit and she covers her mouth to hide her laugh as she makes her way to the kitchen.

Caroline always leaves a few spare blood bags at her house for emergencies so she grabs one from the small lunch box in the back of the refrigerator and pours it into a coffee mug

Caroline usually warms it in the microwave and she wonders if all vampires like it that way. She shrugs and puts the mug in the microwave on 30 seconds just to be safe.

She chews on her thumb nail while she waits and she thinks how screwed up her life has become that she's not even remotely phased by the fact that she's warming up human blood in her microwave for the sick vampire on her couch.

The _ding_ of the microwave breaks her out of her thoughts. She grabs the mug and heads back to the living room.

Damon's passed out again and she wants to just let him sleep but thinks better of it. She'd rather not deal with a sick _and_ hungry Damon Salvatore.

She inches toward him; her heartbeat accelerates and she feels a dull ache low in her gut. She always feels slightly off balance when she gets in too close a proximity to him.

It's like she's sneaking up on a lion.

His hair is dark and wet and violently tousled because he can't keep his hands out of it. The constant crease between his eyebrows has smoothed out and she can see his eyes moving rapidly under the delicate skin of his eyelids. His face is pale, looks smooth to the touch, almost like porcelain, save for his cheeks which are tinted bright red. His lips are parted slightly and she can hear his breath, low and even. She can feel the heat radiating off him and she as to fight down a wave of panic because a vampire definitely shouldn't be throwing off heatwaves.

"Damon?" She whispers and he flinches but doesn't wake.

"Hey, Damon…I got the blood you cried for" she says a bit louder.

He still doesn't move.

She sets the cup on the coffee table beside her and reaches for him, lightly tapping his shoulder.

"Damon."

His eyes shoot open, the brilliant blue shocks her and she gasps, frozen to the spot.

The hand of his uninjured arm shoots out so fast that she doesn't even track it. Doesn't even notice it until she feels it tightening almost to the point of pain around her wrist.

"Damon…Damon. You're hurting me, let go." She grits through her teeth.

His eyes are cold and burning into her own and she doesn't even think he hears her until his grip begins to loosen, but he makes sure she stays put.

His eyes soften as he scans her face.

"Katherine?"

Her stomach bottoms out and her heart follows closely behind. She thought she had a few more hours before the hallucinations were supposed to kick in.

And why did it have to be a Katherine memory? She's only heard the _bad_ memories of Katherine. Did Damon even have good memories of her? He must have if he spent 150 years pining over her, right?

"No. Damon, not Katherine. It's Bonnie. You hearing me?"

He's staring at her, eyes still soft and cloudy and the fact that his thumb is now rubbing in slow circles on the inside of her wrist where he's still got his fingers tightly wrapped lets her know that, no, he most definitely _is not_ hearing her.

She feels a tiny shiver tickle down her spine and tries to pull her arm free of his grasp.

His fingers tighten again, a small warning, and she freezes. He's basically on his deathbed but still _so strong._

She watches as his eyes drop to her lips and he licks his own before he meets her eyes again. The walls inside her mind are falling and crumbling to dust. _What is happening?_

He lets out a low, pained growl and his face crumples.

"Katherine, please." He whispers. "Please tell me what I did wrong. Why am I not good enough for you? What does Stefan have that I do not? Please Katherine, will you not speak?"

He's searching her eyes, desperation and pain and icy flames shine in his own.

She can hear her heartbeat hammering in her ears and her whole body is trembling, mouth hanging open. She's honestly speechless. She feels like she's eves dropping or reading Damon's diary and she can't make it stop.

"I love you like I've never loved another." He continues. "And I swear, if you give me half the chance, I will spend my life making all of your wildest wishes my every command."

She's shaking her head slowly. Willing this whole thing to just stop, reverse, _go away._

"Damon..." she tries but the sound that is released from her throat is a mere parody of what her voice used to be.

He tugs down on her wrist until she has no choice but to comply and drops down to a crouch and when they're face to face he leans forward and cups her cheek gently with the palm of his hand.

She tenses, strictly by force of habit because this is Damon. Her mind has been trained to brace for violence whenever he's around.

Which is why right now her brain is firing off every signal it has available, trying desperately to figure out how the hell to respond to _this_ version of Damon.

Her head is starting to swim and she realizes she's not breathing. She exhales and the air fumbles out of her like bricks of a building being torn down.

He's handling her gently and delicately. Brushing his fingertips across the skin of her cheeks and then trailing down the side of her neck and up into the hair at the back of her head.

He's looking at her like she's all he sees, all he ever _wants_ to see.

Now, in her mind she knows he's not seeing _her_ right now. She _knows this._ He thinks he's talking to Katherine.

But apparently her body doesn't know these things because she's on fire.. Everywhere his fingers have touched is tingling like livewire. She can't seem to catch her breath and she has to bite her lip on a moan when he tightens his grip on the hair at the back of her neck to tilt her head, forcing her to meet his eyes once more.

In her defense, it has been _way_ too long since she's been touched like this, _seen_ like this, so the fact that she can't get her body to agree with her brain that this is all an illusion can't be held against her.

"You are so beautiful." He whispers. And she can't fight the shiver that shakes her from her head down to the tips of her toes.

She really needs to stop this before it goes too far. Well, it's already gone too far but she should stop it before actions can't be undone.

She grips the front of his shirt between shaky fingers and tugs on it a bit.

"Damon!"

And thank God her voice decided to make a comeback.

"Listen to me. You have to snap out of this now, okay? I'm not Katherine. I'm Bonnie."

His eyes are trained on her throat where his thumb is tracing a slow, agonizing line up and down her carotid artery and she's about to lose it.

She tightens her hold on his shirt and shakes.

"Damon..please." And her voice still sounds strong, but with a hint of desperation to follow.

His eyes finally snap back to hers and he's still holding on to her but his head is tilted and he's studying her closely like he's trying to remember where he knows her from.

She waits patiently while he puts the pieces together and she can see the clouds slowly clearing from his eyes like he's waking from a dream.

His eyes go wide and he _finally_ releases her from his grip and she's able to stand and blessedly, thankfully put much needed space between them.

" _Bonnie?"_

She exhales heavily and nods. "Yes. Bonnie."

 _Jesus._

He drops his head back to the couch and shoves his fingers up into his hair, closing his eyes.

"You with me?" She asks quietly.

He licks his lips and his breath is coming out in shudders. "Yeah. That was just…"

When he opens his eyes to look at her, his gaze has gone distant again but she can tell he's just replaying the whole scene in his head again.

"That was too weird." He sits up then, and swings his legs off the couch and onto the floor. "I was so sure I was there." He looks up at Bonnie. "You were Katherine."

This thing is a lot stronger than she'd imagined. It's like he had been removed from all reality and it was almost like she wouldn't be able to bring him back. She was afraid to find out how the rest of the day would play out. She needs to find the cure. Fast.

She prays he doesn't drive them both insane before then.

"I know, Damon, but, that's what this thing does to you. It eats away at you physically and mentally. Dredging up your deepest darkest memories and bombarding you with them until you either want to kill or be killed."

She has to take a seat on the edge of the coffee table across from him. Her legs are jelly and her heart is still trying to jump out of her chest.

"I just need you to find a way to fight through this a little while longer, okay? I know there's a cure out there."

He's got that curious look on his face again and she feels that little flutter in her stomach grow into a sour burn.

"Your heart. It's wild right now." He says and his eyes drop to her chest, his Adams Apple bobs as he swallows, and she sees a flash of veins under his eyes before they disappear so quickly that she almost thinks she imagines them.

 _Hunger._

"Oh…here." She grabs the mug and holds it out for him. "It's probably cold by now but it's your fault for freaking out on me." She says on a nervous chuckle.

Their energy is all foreign and twisted now and she'd give anything to have some snarky back and forth banter right now,like old times.

He takes the cup from her hand an he puts it to his lips and drinks it down greedily before replacing the cup on the table and leaning back against the couch cushions.

"You gonna be okay for now?" She asks.

He licks a stray red drop from the corner of his lip and nods but stays quiet. He's staring at her again, eyes calculating.

"What is it?" And she's trying not to fidget. He's so intense. .

"Why are you even bothering?" He finally asks.

So he's going back to this again. "Damon…"

"No. Really." He cuts her off. "This is not a sarcasm thing. I'm not being a dick. I really want to know."

His eyes are sincere.

"I mean, come on, Bon. Clearly we haven't been the best of friends, right? So why are you trying so hard to save me? You're the only one who knows about this. Why not just leave me somewhere to rot and die?"

She's seriously considered that option over the past few hours and she's almost acted on it a handful of times but it just didn't feel right.

"Honestly. It's crossed my mind."

"Naturally." He smiles.

"But Elena is my best friend and Stefan is a good guy. It would kill them if you were gone. And I guess my conscience won't let me."

He turns her words over in his head quietly.

"Bonnie Bennett. The self sacrificing little lamb. So. You're doing this for them? That's all?"

"Well. For them and for the fact that you'd be getting off easy. You deserve a little more torture before I burn you to dust."

"There's the Bonnie, I know."

And just like that, things are _almost_ normal between them.

"So, you find your miracle cure while I was out?"

She stands and returns to sit in her chair, grabbing her grimiore and hugging it to her chest.

"Not yet. But I've been thinking. Ric is the one who new about all this lycanthropy stuff in the first place. I think he's our best bet. I'm gonna head over and pilfer through some of his books."

"Well have at it, young optimist. I'll hang here in case Stefan shows up."

"Yeah there is _no way_ I'm leaving you here alone. Plus, Stefan called why you were asleep. Sheriff Forbes found a lead on Jeremy. He and Caroline are headed that way now so we've got some time."

She stands and gathers up her notes and her keys. "Come on, Salvatore. Get dressed and meet me in the car.

He studies her quietly but complies.


	5. The Cure

_**Hey Guys! I hope you're all still here, I know it's been a while since I updated.**_

 _ **This chapter is Bamon centric and I hope you enjoy.**_

 _ **Warning: There is bloodsharing in this chapter!**_

 _ **As always, leave comments, I like those very much!**_

* * *

"Damon, there is _no key_ under this stupid mat! I'm not blind!" Bonnie lifts Alaric's welcome mat to make sure Damon can see that there is nothing there.

"What the hell? Why would he move it?" Damon frowned, eyes wandering around aimlessly, looking for other places the key could be stashed.

"He probably took it so you'd stop inviting yourself over whenever you want, drinking up all his alcohol."

Damon rolls his eyes. "Like _that's_ gonna stop me."

He steps toward the door and Bonnie wedges herself between him and the door, stops him with a hand on his chest. "Damon. You are not about to kick open Ric's door."

"I'm a vampire, Bon. I can be a little more subtle than that." He says. "Now move aside, little witch."

She thinks about fighting him on it but then again, Ric most likely has something on the other side of that door that could help them. She's pretty sure she could _spell_ the door open but that would take entirely too long and judging by the amount of ooze and blood soaking through Damon's ace bandage, it's just not worth the trouble.

She sighs and steps aside.

He takes another half step toward the door and shoots her with that cocky grin before he grabs the knob and twists until the lock gives under his grip and the door creaks open. He waltzes right in like he owns the place.

"I hope you know you're fixing that." She says, following him into the small, one-bedroom loft Ric rented when he moved to town.

He makes a _blah blah blah_ gesture with his hand and heads to the kitchen in search of bourbon.

Ric is at Duke with Jenna researching the Original Family but Bonnie had called him on their way over and he'd told her where to find everything and to take whatever she'd need.

She grabs her small medical kit from her bag before she hangs it on the coat rack next to the front door and heads over to the small dining table in the corner. She sees the stack of lycanthropy books Ric said he'd leave out for her before he'd left this morning sitting right on top. And underneath, he's got ungraded History papers and empty bourbon bottles strewn all over. She glances over at Damon where he's flopped down on the sofa with his feet kicked up on the table sipping bourbon straight from the bottle like he's not slowly dying.

She shakes her head and begins pushing Ric's things to the side so she can set up her supplies.

"Birds of a feather…" she mumbles, probably only imagining the chuckle she hears from the other side of the room.

She lays out the scissors, clean ace bandages and gauze, and moist towelettes.

She also pulls out a small jar of mystical ointments her grandmother had made.

Supposedly, it can slow down the spread of infections bestowed onto any supernatural being _or_ it can delay the effects of any physical supernatural ailment, allowing time to find a cure.

Bonnie had never seen it used first hand, but her Grams told her a story once about how she'd used it on her mom when she was just a little girl after she'd wondered too far out in the garden and into some of her poisonous herbs.

She could have used it earlier when she'd patched Damon up the first time but decided against it, not really being in the mood to explain to Damon what it was and then listening to him gripe about witches and all the weird stews they cook up in their black cauldrons.

But after witnessing his first hallucinogenic fit, it couldn't hurt to try it out, right?

She takes a seat in the chair closest to the window and glares over at Damon where he's resting lazily on the sofa now, with his eyes closed and legs splayed, precious bourbon bottle resting between them.

"Could you dive out of the bottle for just _one_ second and get over here so I can change that?" She sounds slightly annoyed and doesn't try to hide it. "Maybe pick up a book or two? Help me out with research while you're at it?"

His eyes stay closed as he takes a few more pulls from the bottle. He thinks she _really_ takes her nickname, Judgy, way too seriously.

"I'll think about it if you promise to dial back on the condescension for a change and maybe remove the stick from your ass." He snaps back.

Satisfied when he hears her heartbeat do that familiar _kick, jump_ when she's irritated but trying to control it, he leans forward to put the bottle on the coffee table, and finally looks over at her, drunken grin plastered to his face.

"Aw, come on, Bon. You can't tell me you're not getting a _little_ satisfaction at seeing me this way,huh?"

He's still got bedhead and his cheeks are still fiery red and yeah, maybe she is enjoying his pain just a smidge and she makes sure it shows on her face so that he's crystal clear.

He finally stands from the couch and makes his way over to her.

His black leather boots are unlaced so they thump heavily as he moves closer and even though she made him button up his jeans, they still hang sinfully low on his waist and his black tank top has risen _just enough_ for her to make out that _vee_ cut just below his abdomen where it disappears behind his waistband.

And there her mind goes again…

No matter what their history is, no matter how much they fight, no matter how many times she's dropped him to his knees with some of her most powerful magic, no matter how many times she's threatened to kill him…

…and no matter how many times she's tried to ignore this one fact, she just can't…

She can't deny the fact that Damon Salvatore is one of the most beautiful creatures she's ever laid her eyes on.

A person would have to be blind not to notice. It's pretty much the first thing people acknowledge about him and he knows the effect he has on people and he uses his looks to his advantage to get what be wants.

He'd tried it on her, even. But where everyone else can get hypnotized by him, she could see right through that bad boy exterior and she didn't let him get away with it.

But she's still human. And still…she noticed...

She'd noticed it the first time he'd come up to her and pressed her back against her car door and got in her face, trying to _intimidate_ his way into her mind in order to get his necklace back from her.

She remembers being shaken up by that whole thing, of course, but in the back of her mind she knew that it wasn't because she knew what kind of monster he was or the fact that he'd towered over her, but it was his eyes that had made her belly bottom out. The icy blue color made her feel like she was drowning in a frozen lake of emotions and her mind was so shellshocked that she couldn't have deciphered those emotions to save her life.

Or the time he'd attacked her in the woods a few weeks later looking to make good on his threat to _take_ his necklace back if she didn't comply.

A dream had taken her from her bed that night and she'd woken up barefoot in her pajamas surrounded by trees, she'd been terrified when he'd grabbed her from behind, arm tight around her waist. But when his pinky finger slipped under her sleep tee to rest gently below her belly button, the muscles in her stomach twitched like electric shock. The tickle of his breath on her neck had made her shiver as he inhaled her scent and exhaled on a moan. The hard press of his chest against her back had awakened heat in her that had long been buried. It was almost like she wanted to welcome the danger just a little while longer just to see where it'd lead.

Damon elicited the most dangerous of any of her emotions and she didn't know which one of them should be more disturbed by it.

She'd _never_ utterthese things out loud but it's almost like their constant arguing, screaming, fighting, bickering becomes this sort of tripwire of mixed up emotions that her body seems to read as _foreplay_ while her brain just scoffs and feels ashamed for it all.

Even now, with him being pale and weak and disheveled with black circles under his eyes and needing an iron and a hairbrush, he's still and Adonis.

He exudes a deeply ingrained confidence and as he swaggers his way toward her he's got a knowing look on his face, barely hidden behind the pull of his lips where he's still grinning like an idiot.

Prick.

Her facial expressions have pretty much told him what she was thinking that whole time and she wants to brain herself for it. If she could blush, her cheeks would look like his right now.

He's eyeing her under his lashes as he grabs the chair closest to her, pulls it closer, and sinks into it, resting against the back of the seat and splaying his legs.

Thank God he decides to just stay quiet as he lifts his arm to lay flat on the table for Bonnie to work.

She scoots to the edge of her chair, both of her legs bracketing one of his, grabs the scissors and leans forward to inspect his bandage.

It appears to be crusted to his skin around the edges and in certain spots in the center where Tyler's fangs punctured.

She bites her bottom lip and grimaces. "I'm gonna have to… _pull…_ at it a little, sorry."

He eyes her and if he didn't know any better he'd think he heard a hint of _care_ in her voice. But that can't be right, can it?

"Why, Bonnie…was that… _concern_ I heard _?"_

She rolls her eyes and starts to cut a slit down the center of the bandage.

"You make it really hard for people to be nice to you, you know that?"

The corner of his mouth ticks up likes he wants to smile.

"Oh. That was you being nice, was it? You'll have to forgive me for not recognizing it when coming from you." He pauses. "And anyway, nobody asked you for your sympathy."

The ever-present scent of honey that always follows her around has gone spicy and his mouth waters. He's not sure why he enjoys getting under her skin so much.

Maybe it's because she's so damn stiff, looking down her nose like she's so perfect.

In all the time he's known her, he's never seen her let loose. Or relax.

Granted, it is kinda hard to relax in a town like Mystic Falls but come on. When he's seen Stefan's smile more times than he's seen Bonnie's then there's a major problem. Stefan's got brooding down to a science but Bonnie is trying to give him a run for it.

No eighteen-year-old girl should be so damn uptight, especially because when she does finally smooth out those constant frown lines once in a while, she's actually not a terrible person to hang around. And more than that, she's not bad on the eyes. Her skin is smooth and looks soft to the touch and she's a good three inches shorter than her friends but under all those flowy shirts and loose jeans he can see she's actually got a woman's body hiding there. Full breasts and slim waistline that swells out at the hips to form a nice, round ass.

But her scent…

Witches blood has always been his favorite weakness.

Very rarely does he get the chance to indulge being that to most witches, he is the enemy. However, on rare occasions when he's been able to get close enough to seduce his way into her bed, it's a magical experience, pun intended.

Not all witches smell the same to him but they all have a sense of heat radiating from their core and it makes his fangs itch under his gums.

Bonnie has sort of a sweet heat. Honey and cinnamon and nutmeg and he guesses it's because of her virginity but she smells innocent and dangerous at the same time. Especially when she gets all riled up and bothered.

Her not-so-gentle tugging on the bandage snaps him out of his own mind, thankfully because he's just not ready to follow that line of thought to its end.

"Hey! _Easy_ there, Glenda."

She feigns an innocent look "Well…you said not to be nice. I'm just respecting your wishes."

"Yeah. Figures you'd pick _now_ to start listening to me. Try to leave some skin why don't you."

She ducks her head to hide her smile but she's a little more careful with him when she resumes.

"Why is it that you don't want anybody to be nice to you?" She keeps her eyes downcast as she cuts away at the last bits of white cloth around his arm.

She hears him exhale heavily.

"I'm not some charity case, Bonnie. I'm a big boy and I don't need to be coddled."

She pauses and glares up at him. "And what if it's not charity, huh? What if someone is genuinely trying to be nice to you and you're antagonizing them for no apparent reason?"

"And by 'someone', you mean you, right?"

And he refuses to let up with the stare and she fights not to squirm. "No…well, yeah. Maybe." She stumbles over her words like an idiot.

He laughs. High pitched, incredulous.

"You want me to believe you're trying to save my life out of the goodness of your heart? Is that it?" He pauses and when she doesn't answer he continues. "Well I _don't._ You said it yourself, remember? You'd feel guilty if you let me die, right? That's all this is to you. Keeping your conscience clear."

She goes quiet then. Turning his words over in her head for a bit as she inspects his arm.

The two puncture marks have stopped oozing and she doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing. Almost his entire forearm is puffy and red now and the purple and black veins around the wound have stretched up further, almost reaching his bicep. Her heart lurches in her chest and without even thinking she takes her index finger and traces one of the crooked, purple lines right up to its end between the crease of his inner elbow. The skin there feels hot and damp, almost spongey. A complete contrast to the rest of him which is smooth and cold, flawless.

The shaky breath she releases feels cool against his heated skin and he can almost feel the phantom ghost of goosebumps prickling in the wake.

His hand balls into a fist and the tendons in his wrist stand taught. He bumps her knee with his own where it still sits between her legs.

She startles, jerks her hand back and looks at him with wide eyes, and she doesn't know what the hell to do with the look on his face.

She exhales again. "Sorry…"

He's chewing on his bottom lip but doesn't move to speak so she refocuses on her work, grabbing one of the towelettes to start wiping away the dried blood staining his skin.

"And, yeah, you're right." She continues, picking up the conversation. "I _would_ feel guilty if I just let you die, of course I would. That's who I am."

"But…I also…" she pauses, licks her lips and peeks at him from under her lashes.

He's looking back at her, expectant. His eyebrows are raised, hiding under the tousled hair falling over his forehead.

"Well, come on, spit it out, Bonnie. You're the one who decided to open this shrink session, don't chicken out now."

She rolls her eyes and curses herself in her head for taking the conversation down this road.

"Look. I just mean that…maybe you deserve to be saved. That's all."

His eyes widen minutely before he lets them fall as he squints at her like he's waiting for a punchline and she suddenly becomes really focused on cleaning his arm again.

She feels too damn _vulnerable_ around Damon and she hates it. She always feels like he's gonna use her words against her to either make some joke out of it or threaten her. So maybe that's why she feels like she has to be mad at him _all the time._ Even if he hasn't done anything to provoke it.

Yes, Damon is a dick like…ninety eight percent of the time. But she's seen little flashes of his softer side here and there and that's why she always holds that little shred of hope that maybe he'll change.

Now, granted, it wasn't directed at _her_ , but she's watched from a distance as his face goes soft and sweet when Elena's in the room. She's watched him gently brush Elena's hair behind her ear and handle her with care. She's seen him risk his life time and time again to make sure Elena was safe.

And he'll go on and on about how Stefan is a sorry excuse for a brother and that he'd be better off dead but she's learned to read between the lines with Damon.

When Stefan got kidnapped by the tomb vampires last year, Damon almost lost his mind. He damn near tore Mystic Falls apart looking for his brother. He'd be lost if anything ever happened to Stefan and she read it in the way that Damon couldn't let Stefan get out of his sight in the weeks after bringing him home. She read it in the way he'd find ways to touch him. Almost confirming that it was real. That he did save his brother. He's here. He's safe.

Damon does a damn good job at hiding it most of the time. But Bonnie sees it. He's a sucker for love.

"See. This is what I don't get about you, Bonnie. You constantly go out of your way to make sure you let me know how much of an evil piece of shit I am. You shove it down my throat and make sure I taste it." He pauses. "And then you go and say something like _that._ What's your angle, here?"

He doesn't know whether to take her seriously or if this is some witchy mind fuck she's trying to pull.

"Don't get me wrong, Damon. I still think you're a piece of shit." She says it matter of factly. "But, I dunno… I guess…I guess if you spend enough time with your enemy you start to pick up on a few things."

She glances up at him quickly before she refocuses, opening her grandmother's mystical ointment and smearing it over the bite marks.

He frowns. "Yeah? Like what?"

She pauses before she speaks again.

"Like the fact that you spent 150 years pining over _one_ girl. And the fact that you didn't care what it took to get to her, you were willing to do it all."

His eyes drop to the table and in that moment, she knows he's thinking about her grandmother. And even though it hurts to know that the tomb spell Damon forced them to perform that night contributed to her death, she really wasn't trying to throw a guilt trip on him right now.

"Hey…" She ducks her head to catch his eyes again and when she does, she sees remorse there. That's all she could ever ask of him.

" _That_ kind of devotion, Damon, is hard to come by these days." She finishes.

He rolls his eyes. "Well you see where _that_ got me."

She grins, nods her agreement as she starts to wrap a clean bandage around his arm.

"I mean, yeah. _Of course,_ you're an idiot for that." She chuckles. "But...the sentiment actually means something, believe it or not."

"It means what? I have a knack for falling for girls who clearly love my brother more?"

She shakes her head. Leave it to Damon to insist on not accepting the compliment.

"Well…yeah. There's that." She pauses and grins. "But there's also the fact that when you love…you love _hard,_ Damon. And when you learn to give that kind of devotion to the right person, it's entirely worth it."

He hums and goes quiet. His eyes drift somewhere to the right while he turns her words over in his head and she lets him get lost in his own mind.

She figures he's done with the conversation and she's completely okay with that. Enough emotional baggage unloaded for one day. All things considered though, she feels like they actually made progress. And that's saying _a lot._

When she glances over at him he's still buried in thought but he somehow seems…lighter, more at ease. And she's gonna count that as a win.

She secures his bandage with two metal pins and leans back in her chair.

"You're all cleaned up, Salvatore."

He lifts his arm and inspects her work, nodding his approval.

"Nice work, Bennett. Now all you need is a naughty nurse outfit and you'd be _unstoppable"_

He somehow makes the last word sound utterly filthy in a way that only Damon can and she groans.

"You're such a pig."

He wiggles his eyebrows at her and she kicks his boot with the toe of her sneaker.

"Go away before I change my mind about this whole life saving mission."

"Aw come on Bon. I thought we were starting to be friends." He puts on his best pouty face but moves to stand anyway, heading to Ric's bedroom, grabbing a few of the research books from her pile on the way.

She watches his retreating form as he lumbers to the far side of the apartment. He is so exasperating.

She brushes her hair off her face with her wrist and eyes the stack of research books in front of her. Exhaling, she drags the first book off the top and gets to work.

* * *

She's gone through two of the books before her vision starts to swim and she needs to come up for air. She stands and stretches her tired limbs before she heads to the fridge looking for anything that isn't bourbon. Her body is stiff from sitting in the same spot for so long and she can feel the beginnings of a headache behind her left eye.

She pulls open the refrigerator door and peers in. Just as she expected.

Beer, half loaf of bread, ketchup, and cheese.

She'd _kill_ for a burger and milkshake from the grill right now.

She slams the refrigerator door shut and heads over to the sink grabbing one of the plastic cups from the drying rack and fills it with water from the tap.

Even though it's luke-warm and tastes slightly metallic, the feeling of the cool liquid hitting her tongue makes her moan a little as she guzzles it down. She fills the cup two more times before she's satisfied. She hadn't realized how thirsty she really was.

She puts her cup in the sink on top of the pile of dirty plates and cups Ric left there and leans forward, bracing her hands on the edge of the counter as she shuts her eyes and just…lets herself _be_ for a second.

She feels like she's been in overdrive ever since she found out about Damon's werewolf bite and it feels good to just enjoy the quiet, even if it's only for a few seconds. This whole situation has made her actually _miss_ her old life when her friends only used her to create daylight rings and cloaking spells and protection spells.

At least she was on familiar ground then.

But _now?_ Now she feels like she's in over her head.

Responsible for saving a life.

Responsible for saving the life of a person she barely even tolerates and who barely tolerates her.

Responsible for saving him from something she has no clue how to fight.

She's on uncharted territory and it's up to her to figure it out.

Exhaling, she drops her arms to her sides and stands up straight again. But before she can turn and head towards Ric's room she registers heat at her back and freezes.

For the first time, she notices that the air in the room is charged and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

She balls her hands into fists and turns around slowly, already knowing what she'll find.

A veiney-eyed Damon Salvatore.

 _Fuck._

He moves forward, crowding her space until her back is pressing painfully against the edge of the countertop.

"If you were thirsty, Katherine, you could have come to me." Damon speaks softly, his voice taking on a tone so light and gentle that it actually causes ripples of fear to run through Bonnies entire body.

She tries to concentrate on her breathing and remain calm but Damon's bloodshot eyes are making it a challenge.

"Come on, Damon. Not now, okay?"

She tries for sounding exhausted instead of terrified and fails miserably but apparently, it doesn't matter how she sounds, either way, because he just continues his monologue like she hadn't even spoken.

"I would have let you drink me. Or better yet…we should drink each other.

Bonnie starts to shake her head as she squeezes out from where she's wedged between Damon and the counter and starts to back away slowly.

He watches her retreat but doesn't move yet. Instead, he slides his tongue across his top lip, pricking it on a fang along the way, and she watches as the blood pools onto his tongue, spilling down his chin a little.

"Can you smell it, Katherine?" His grin is dirty, his teeth stained crimson.

"Damon…Damon. I'm not Katherine, okay?"

Oh, how she wishes she had a vervain dart in her back pocket right now instead of in her medical bag. Hanging on the rack. By the front door.

Hindsight is a bitch.

She glances behind her shoulder briefly and gauges the distance.

He catches the motion and follows her sightline and the grin that spreads across his face can be described as nothing short of feral.

"You gonna try to escape, Katherine? You know how much I _love_ a good game of hide and seek."

His tongue curls around the word _love_ and she shivers remembering a story Damon told Elena once about how Katherine used to hide in the overgrown gardens of the Salvatore Manor and make Damon and Stefan race to find her. And with them being human at the time, it took hours but Damon loved using his senses alone, and when he'd find her, it had made him feel powerful.

Bonnie imagines that the look in Damon's eyes right now is the same look he'd worn back then.

She's about halfway to reaching her bag when he starts to advance on her.

He's not rushing or using vampire speed, but he's deliberately moving very slowly, _stalking_ her.

And she's terrified.

"Don't you want to hide? Make me work for it? That's the game isn't it, Katherine.?"

There is a hint of malice in his voice and her heartbeat jumps.

His gaze drops to her chest and he licks his lips, his eyes flash as he continues to advance on her.

"You're gonna snap out of this…" she whispers low, more so to herself than to him.

Her back finally hits the wall next to the front door and she breathes a sigh of relief and she thinks that maybe she can end this before it even starts until…

Damon hums low and he grins, a hint of his fangs gleam brightly behind his blood-stained lips and Bonnie shivers again.

"Looks like you're trapped." His tongue drags across his bottom lip as his eyes rake her body. "You're all mine now." He continues. His timbre low and penetrating.

She tries to inch sideways, back still against the wall, toward her black bag and she's so close but it all just seems so impossible and again she wonders, _why me?_

It is at that moment that Damon decides that the game is over and he speeds toward her, stopping just before his body crashes into her own.

She freezes instantly, breath caught in her throat as he towers over her. He's so _big._

His eyes have gone blessedly blue again as he stares down at her, his gaze confused and cloudy. She thinks that maybe he's starting to figure things out and tries once more to coax him back to reality.

"Damon…please." She whispers.

He's standing so close to her that she can smell the copper scent of blood on his lips. Feel the warmth of his breath where he's panting softly.

"Damon…?"

She places a tentative hand on his arm and he frowns, tilts his head down to look at her fingers where they're lightly gripping his bicep. Sharp contrast between her honey brown complexion and the smooth paleness of his skin.

"Damon?" She tries again, louder this time.

She feels the muscles in his arm twitch and he returns his gaze to her face. His eyes look clear as he catalogues her features.

He takes a half step back and his eyes go wide.

"Bonnie?" He still sounds confused, but lucid.

Relief washes over her so immediately that she almost feels lightheaded.

"Yes…Bonnie." she breathes out on an exhale as she lets her head fall back against the wall.

She closes her eyes trying to fight down the rabbiting jumpy feeling shooting through her as her body tries to figure out what to do with the adrenaline still pulsing under her skin.

" _Bonnie_ …"

And the way her name rolls off his tongue like a warning makes her eyes snap back open.

He's slowly backing away from her but his eyes are glued to her throat, his hands are in fists at his sides.

"I don't know what's wrong Bonnie but I…I don't think I can control it."

He's visibly shaking and she reads fear and lust equally in his eyes and her relief was so short lived.

"Control _what,_ Damon?"

When he meets her gaze, the look in his eyes makes her wish she'd never asked. How many times can she put herself through this before she just snaps?

"The bloodlust."

His voice sounds strained and the way it trembles on the word makes her entire body run cold.

He's fighting with himself. He wants to go to her, he can literally hear her blood calling him but he _knows_ it's wrong. He _knows_ he shouldn't but it's getting harder and harder for him to remember why he should care.

"Bonnie listen to me." He breathes. "I need you to run…scream…stab me... _something."_ He drags his fingers roughly through his hair. "But the longer you stand there, the harder it is for me to resist this."

 _What the hell is happening?!_ She thinks frantically.

"Damon…what is _this_? Why is this thing still affecting you? What-"

"Bonnie! Just Go!"

He growls, his fangs visible once more, and _terrifyingly_ sharp.

This kickstarts her into action and she spins around to face the door, frantically yanking at the locks that _she_ insisted Damon fix right away.

Irony's a real bitch.

 _Please please please please…_ she repeats on a loop in her head as her fingers fumble clumsily over the locks until finally, _finally,_ she flips the last bolt over and twists the knob.

She yanks on the door but it won't _budge._

"What the…"

The rest of her sentence dies a violent death in her throat when she spots the toe of Damon's boot wedged against the base of the door, forcing it shut.

"Damon…" She whispers, still facing the door, the fingers of her right hand still gripping the knob tightly.

He stays quiet but she can feel his slow, calculated breaths against the base of her neck where he's standing right behind her close enough for her to feel his presence but not quite touching.

His hands come into view as he plants them flat against the door on either side of her head, caging her in.

"I'm sorry, Bonnie." He whispers. "I tried…"

She leans forward until her forehead is resting against the door and she closes her eyes. "It's…It's not too late, Damon. You can still fight this." Her voice is barely there anymore and why is she even trying?

He moans low, almost sounding tortured, and she feels him shift closer to her, his chest lightly brushing against her back.

"You have no idea what this is doing to me right now."

And there is that desperate tone in his voice again. The tone that makes her ribcage crack and splinter.

She feels his fingertips trail lightly up her left arm and goosebumps fly up in their wake. She bites down hard on her bottom lip and keeps quiet.

When the tips of his fingers reach her shoulder, his grip tightens minutely and he coaxes her to turn around.

She allows him to turn her slowly until she's facing him, her back against the door now and when she opens her eyes and gazes into his own, they remain blue and she sees sadness and loneliness, lust and passion, and a little bit of the beast he's fighting to keep at bay.

He leans forward, dipping his head down to rest his lips against the shell of her ear.

"You smell _delicious."_ He whispers, his lips brushing against her sensitive skin and a violent shiver racks through her soul.

"Damon…" She's practically begging now.

"Shhhh…" he quiets her, dips his head and drags the tip of his nose down the side of her throat until he comes to rest in her most sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder meet. He inhales and this time he moans deep, wanting, and she feels it all the way down to her toes.

His arm circles around her waist and he pulls her flush against him and they're fused together from chest to knee.

She can feel him… _all_ of him, and they both groan.

"Bonnie, please. I can't…you're gonna have to make me stop…"

"Damon, don't…" She tries.

He leans in closer, pushing his center against her own and she nearly swallows her tongue. He smells like fresh laundry and Armani and fire and the firm press of him against her thigh is promising things that have her throbbing at her core.

"I want you…" He breaths against her throat.

In her mind she _knows_ its not her he wants. She knows it's the bloodlust but she can't make her body agree with her.

He's trembling and she's trembling and all she wants is _this._

"Your scent is _mouthwatering._ "

He honest to God whimpers against her throat and Jesus if she could just get a lung full of air that isn't Damon Salvatore maybe she could think straight.

She tilts her head back, inhales long and deep, and Damon takes it as an invitation.

He hums and leans in, his arm tightening around her waist and his tongue presses against the skin of her neck, hot and wet.

"Oh…Jesus…" The air that filled her lungs tumbles back out of her mouth and falls like bricks of a building being torn down and Damon is licking and sucking the skin of her neck into his mouth and she's _losing_ her _mind_ here.

"Can I…?" He breathes.

He parts his lips and licks a long, wet line up the side of her neck and stops just behind the shell of her ear.

"My God, you taste even better, Bonnie." And he almost _moans_ the words.

He uses the hand not circling her waist to cup the back of her neck and tilt her head to the side, giving him better access and she's panting now, fast and loud. Her hands are on his biceps but she's no longer pushing him away, just merely holding on for dear life.

She feels his fangs scrape across the skin of her throat and this is _really_ about to happen.

Her knees nearly give out.

His fingertips dig into her hips as he holds her still, his knee pressed between her legs. "Bonnie…you have to relax…. your heart is going wild."

He's panting against her neck and he's salivating as the sound of her heart pumping strong and wet in her chest fills his ears. He can see the _thump thump_ pulse of her carotid artery and he licks his lips.

"I can't…I'm sorry, I can't control it." She pants.

"Please. Just one taste, Bonnie. One taste."

Her fingers dig into the skin of his arms and she couldn't deny the slick between her legs if she tried.

"I'll make it good for you, promise. Just let me…"

She's writhing against his leg now, her hips are slowly circling like she's not even aware she's doing it. He hears her moan low in his ear and that's all he needs.

He opens wide and sinks his fangs into her neck. He feels her tense at the sudden intrusion and then she loosens up, goes pliant in his hands.

He takes his first pull and the moment her blood touches his tongue its simultaneously the best and worst feeling he's ever felt in his life.

It's warm and thick and her heart is beating so fast that he barely even has to work for it. She's practically feeding it to him. He can taste the heat of her magic and the sweetness of her untainted innocence.

It's instantly addictive and he knows he's not gonna stop unless Bonnie makes him.

He presses in, impossibly closer and just feeds his monster and she's letting him. She's actually getting off on it. The tangy-sweet smell of musk wafting from her lower region tells him as much. It's so thick in the air that he feels like he could inhale it and swallow. He's so fucked. She's so fucked.

If he wanted to, he's sure he could open her up right here and bury himself so deep inside her she'd be feeling him for weeks. The thought of it makes his dick jump in his jeans and he hears her quick intake of breath when she feels him.

This has all gone too far and the fallout from this…well, hopefully they'll both be too dead to witness it.

He doesn't know how much time has passed since he's been lost in bliss here with her pinned against this wall but he's aware enough to feel it when Bonnie's soft, breathless moans become heavier and more panicked and still, he can't extract himself.

"Damon…Damon you have to stop." Her voice finally reaches his ears.

She's pushing against his chest and it proves useless because he's still _really_ strong and he's not budging. She's getting weaker and her vision is starting to swim and now she's panicking again.

She digs her nails into the skin of his upper arm now, no longer holding him there, struggling to free herself.

"Shit…Damon. You have to stop now!"

He groans his disapproval and holds her steadfast.

"Oh my God, Damon, its too much! You've taken too much, you have to…stop. Damon…"

He's crowding her and she can feel him all around her. She can feel the wet heat of his lips moving against her skin, draining her of everything that she is.

She's frantically thinking and coming up with nothing. She has no hope of reaching the vervain darts in her bag now that he's got her cadged in and pressed against the wall and she thinks about using her magic to give him an aneurism but in his condition, what if it _kills_ him?

And then it clicks. _That's it!_

Her hand fumbles over his bicep and down to his forearm. She doesn't want to hurt him but she wants to live more so when she feels the rough edges of the bandage on his arm she digs her thumbnail into one of the puncture marks Tyler left there and he immediately tears away from her throat, growling deep and low in his chest as he stumbles back and falls to his knees.

She doesn't hesitate when she yanks her bag off the rack so hard that it tips and clatters to the ground, and flees for the bathroom on the other end of the hall, slamming the door and locking it she turns frantically scans the bathroom looking for anything she can use as a weapon.

Yanking the shower curtain back she finds a purple loofah brush attached to a wooden stick hanging on the showerhead.

She grabs it and snaps it in half creating a jagged edge. She drops to the floor and rifles through her bag until she comes up with one of the three vervain darts she secretly packed before they'd left her house this morning.

Feeling more secure now that she's armed, she holds her breath and strains her ears.

She steps closer to the door and tries her best but all she can hear is her pulse beating in her ears blocking out any other sounds. Her breath ragged and irregular.

What the hell does she do now? Hide in the bathroom for the rest of the night while she bleeds to death on the floor?

She turns to look at herself in the mirror and Jesus, her eyes are bloodshot and her hair is damp and sticking up in weird places.

There's blood on her shirt and her skin is torn open and puffy where Damon bit her and the wound is still slowly leaking blood.

She grabs a brown hand towel from the countertop and presses it firmly against her neck and tries to concentrate on controlling her breathing.

If she makes it out of this alive she's gonna kill Damon. And then kill Stefan on principle. And then she's gonna run away forever because what the hell has she gotten herself into?

She never thought she'd be one to let a vampire near her, let alone drink from her. And the bitch of the whole thing? That vampire ended up being Damon Salvatore.

She shifts on her feet and the slick between her legs reminds her of how much _her body_ actually enjoyed it and she looks at her reflection in the mirror and shakes her head.

A small knock on the door startles her and she jumps back and holds her breath.

"Bonnie?" Comes Damon's voice on the other side of the door, low and cautious.

"Bonnie, come on, open up. I need to make sure you're okay."

She _really_ does not want him touching her right now. Or looking at her for that matter.

"I…I'm fine Damon." She tries her best to sound convincing but she's looking at herself in the mirror and she is pretty damn far from fine.

"Bonnie, I can smell your blood. Please…please just open the door and let me heal you."

She grits her teeth and her unflinching stubborn streak is probably gonna get her killed one day but she's willing to take that chance today because this is just too much.

"Bonnie…" He speaks again when she doesn't answer.

"Damon, just _go away._ I'll take care of this." She pleads.

She hears him growl low on the other side of the door and she steps back and adjusts her stance.

"Listen, Bonnie. I'm _really_ trying to be respectful here and not force myself on you… _again…_ which is why I'm _asking_ you to let me in right now. But I swear I will break this door open if you don't stop being so damn stubborn!"

He wiggles the doorknob and the door shakes on its hinges emphasizing his point.

"Okay, _fine!_ She yells, not wanting to ruin Ric's house any more than they already have. "But…but I'm armed, Damon so…if you try anything funny…"

"I won't, Bonnie, I promise. Just open the door."

She exhales, puts her makeshift stake on the counter but holds on to the vervain dart, and unlocks the door.

As soon as he hears the _click_ of the lock, he turns the knob and lets the door swing open slowly. When she can finally see him, he raises both of his hands as if in surrender and his face is carefully blank.

He eyes the jagged wooden stick on the countertop but doesn't say anything about it as he slowly steps inside the bathroom.

She's got the vervain dart in a death grip by her side and she's fighting herself to stand still and not flee from the bathroom. The apartment. The city… _Jesus._

"I'm just gonna take a look, okay?" He's still moving toward her cautiously like she's a baby deer or something.

Not trusting her own voice, she just nods. She trains her eyes somewhere above his head because looking him in the eyes right now is not something she's quite ready to do after what they just did.

The closer he gets, the shallower her breathing becomes and her head feels like a balloon.

He's standing directly in front of her now, invading her space like he's been doing this entire time and she's angry and exhausted and humiliated and just wants this all to be over.

He hisses between his teeth and her eyes, against her will, jump to his.

Her body has been betraying her an awful lot lately but thankfully his eyes are trained on her neck and not her own.

"What is it?" Her free hand twitches and she wants to cover the bite marks and pretend they don't exist.

"Nothing…I just…I'm sorry, Bonnie." He whispers, now looking at her directly. His eyes are more of a crystal blue now instead of the dull grey they were earlier in the day. His skin looks flushed and dewy and his lips are wet and full and red.

He looks…rejuvenated.

And she's reminded of how he'd gotten that way as the image of him and her pressed against the wall just a few minutes earlier flashes in her mind. His warm mouth pressed against her skin...

She slams her eyes shut and forces the memory back down to a land where no one can ever dig it up and when she's confident that she won't flubber like an idiot, she opens her eyes again and exhales.

"Look, Damon…It's…it's fine okay? Can you just…do this before I bleed to death?"

He looks like he wants to say more but she pleads with her eyes for him to just _shut up!_

Finally, he nods and refocuses on her neck.

He slowly reaches forward and starts to brush her hair behind her shoulder and sweep it to the other side so he can see better.

His fingertips brush across her skin and she jumps, he freezes immediately.

 _Damnit, Bonnie! Get a grip!_ She scolds herself in her mind again.

"Sorry." She mumbles as she reaches to gather all her hair up and move it for him. "So…how does this work?"

He steps back a bit. "Well…I'm assuming you aren't gonna _drink_ from me…"

"Uh…yeah. You _assume_ correct." She interrupts.

He nods. "Okaaay. Well…I could just prick my finger and…kinda, rub it on there? It'll take longer to heal, but it's the lesser of two evils."

She chews on her bottom lip as she weighs her options in her head. This is a nightmare.

"Fine. Let's do it. No! I mean…rub it. Wait! _Jesus._ She slaps her hand over her face and shakes her head. "Prick your damn finger, Damon." She groans before she peels her hand off her face to regather her hair to hold it out of the way.

His eyes are dancing with barely hidden humor and he's chewing on the insides of his cheeks trying not to laugh at her and she's praying for a giant hole to open in the floor and swallow her whole.

He can hear her heart hammering wildly in her chest and her body temperature has risen a few degrees making her blood smell even more potent to him now but he's _fully_ fed and, to be honest, feeling guilty enough about it that he doesn't let that make him lose focus.

If he's being c _ompletely_ honest though, he's rather enjoying the fact that she's being all awkward and _squirmy_ around him. She's finally reacting like any normal girl would around an attractive, young lad such as himself.

Under different circumstances he could see himself exploring this weird, new dynamic between them.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Her voice cuts through his reverie and his eyes snap back to hers.

"Uh..what?" He stumbles. Had he been saying all that stuff out loud?

"What's taking so long? Still bleeding. Still painful." She says, gesturing toward her neck.

"Ohh…yeah. That. Sorry. Come here." He motions for her to step forward with his index finger and then uses his fang to prick that same finger before reaching for her with his uninjured hand, wrapping it around her shoulder and pulling her gently forward.

Her grip tightens on the vervain dart still squeezed in her fist, but other than that she remains calm as she allows him to move her.

He uses his thumb under her chin to tilt her head to the side.

"This might sting a little bit but it should start to feel better once my blood mixes with your own."

He carefully places his index finger against the wound. She's chewing on her tongue as he rubs in gentle circles over the first puncture and then the other and he pain in her neck immediately starts to ebb and dull.

Damon is making her feel better right now. Healing her wounds. Go figure.

After a few seconds…or minutes, who's even counting anymore, he's no longer touching her and the air around her feels cold as he moves away.

She tilts forward, subconsciously seeking his heat again and her eyes snap open and she grips the countertop to balance herself.

Thankfully he's facing away from her and rumbling around in the medicine cabinet so he doesn't see her embarrassing display.

He turns around waving a box of Band-Aids.

"Okay, it's gonna take a couple of hours for that to completely heal so I'm just gonna cover you with this and we're all done."

He gives her a tight smile as he digs into the box and opens one of the big rectangles. Peeling off the white, plastic adhesive, he steps back toward her. She tips her head to the side and he covers the two holes with the bandage.

Leaning back he eyes her neck for a beat before he gives an approving nod. "Okay, Bennett. Near death crisis averted."

Her fingertips brush lightly against the bandage on her neck before she looks him in the eye, small smile playing at the corner of her lips.

"Thank you."

"No problem." He smiles. "So…um. You think we could get back to _my_ near-death crisis now?" He gestures at his arm.

She chuckles and shakes her head but shoves him toward the door.

"I'll see what I can do."

* * *

It turns out that between the two of them they'd uncovered some pretty interesting information and a probable cure.

Damon had shown her pictures of some old werewolf legend folklore text that Ric had sent him a few hours earlier that he'd thought would be of use.

Apparently, a portion of the text had come from an old Lockwood journal over 500 years old.

Marianna Lockwood, the first of her generation to activate the werewolf curse after murdering her abusive husband in his sleep, had started keeping a journal of all her gifts and abilities, as well as the downfalls of becoming a lycanthrope at such a young age.

Within the text was a phrase: " _Combattere l'infezione Con l'infezione"_ which roughly translates to: "Fight infection with infection."

Damon had interpreted this as meaning Tyler's venom would be one of the keys to reversing the infection since his venom was the cause of his now terminal ailment but Bonnie didn't think that was a likely conclusion for so many reasons.

So after some more reading and back and forth banter, they both agreed that it was Tyler's blood they'd need, not his venom and of course Damon was _more_ than willing to acquire that by any means necessary.

Aconitum Napellus, or Wolfsbane, was another ingredient they'd need which, if the text had been translated correctly, is to werewolves what vervain is to vampires.

Bonnie planned to stash some of that away for herself. There's no such thing as _too_ armed in a place like Mystic Falls.

After they'd come up with a pretty hefty list of ingredients they figured most of them wouldn't be too hard to acquire.

 _Most_ of them.

There was this one flower, Amorphophallus Titanium. The Corpse Plant. Extremely rare and extremely hard to find.

Bonnie had to nearly sell her soul and sacrifice a baby deer to find the damn thing and whatever she did find still wasn't guaranteed to pay off.

There's a small witch tribe in Onacock, The Chretien Tribe, who supposedly grow and breed rare and extinct plants and herbs. Bonnie has no idea if they even have this Corpse Plant or not but it's their best shot and a three hour drive so after gathering up the other ingredients they hop in Damon's car and head to his fate.

* * *

Bonnie's pretty much in her own little world humming to whatever top ten hit is playing on the radio when Damon reaches over and lowers the volume to nothing.

She glances over at him confused before she returns her eyes to the road.

"What is it?". She asks wearily.

"Bonnie. You know that if this…tribe, or whatever, doesn't have what we need I'm probably gonna die before we get back to Mystic Falls, right?"

She purposefully keeps her eyes forward and her facial expression neutral.

"Yes, Damon. I am aware."

"So? Have you decided what you're gonna do with me?"

She looks over at him then, frown painting her features. " _Excuse_ me?"

"Well, you know. If the odds don't end up in my favor."

"Still not following you here, Damon."

He rolls his eyes and sighs all put upon.

"Are you gonna burn me and leave me in some cornfield? Or are you gonna ' _Weekend at Bernies'_ my ass back to Mystic Falls so my brother can say his last goodbyes?"

She tries not to flinch as she finally catches his drift. Focusing more on the feel of his steering wheel under her fingers.

"Well that's not morbid at all."

"Hey, I'm just getting to the down and dirty here, Bon. I know you like to stay in the land of unicorns but like it or not, and as _tragic_ as it is for the both of us, you might be the last person to handle this sweet ass."

The laugh that escapes her lips almost startles her.

Leave it to Damon to find the humor in a situation that is completely void of it.

"You're an idiot." She slaps his shoulder with the back of her hand and he looks pleased with himself.

"What would _you_ want me to do?"

He leans back in his chair and slouches into a more comfortable position.

"Hmmm. Well. No one knows I'm dying but you. If you leave me on the side of the road you can make up some elaborate story back home like me running off to Vegas with the hot bartender at The Grill."

"You call _that_ elaborate?"

"Well hey, my brain is all werewolf poisoned okay? I can't be all witty and cool."

She chuckles.

"Speaking of, though. Why didn't you want Stefan to know?"

"I already told you, Bon. Stefan's got enough on his plate as it is and he just loves to brood. If I'd told him about this he probably would have killed himself trying to save everybody. I think this time I'd like to refrain from being my brothers burden."

"Oh, but being _my_ burden is completely fine with you?"

"Ah come on and drop the act, Bonnie. You've _loved_ all this time we've spent together today, admit it."

She rolls her eyes and looks over to glare at him.

He raises his eyebrows expectantly.

She scoffs. " _Fine._ I guess...you're not the _worst_ person in the world."

He laughs big and open and Bonnie's amazed at how light and carefree and boyish he sounds. She's never heard him laugh like that. It was _real._ With sparkly eyes and all his teeth showing, perfect and white.

Her heart explodes with unexplored emotions for him and it kind of hurts and she wants nothing more in that moment than to keep him alive so she gets to chance to hear that him laugh like that over and over.

"You know what, Bon? You're not so bad yourself."

He leans forward and turns the dial on the radio until the music's back up to a respectable volume before he leans back and closes his eyes.

"Wake me when we get to Oz." he mumbles.

* * *

It's approaching midnight and they're about 45 minutes from the small farmhouse marked by an X on Bonnies GPS system when Damon's phone startles her.

She jumps and looks over at him where he's hunched over in the passengers seat still sleeping. He's got a light sheen of sweat over the part of his face that's not obscured by his thick hair. His skin looks greyish again now that her blood is no longer in his system. He'd pulled his Henley back on so she couldn't see his wound anymore but judging by the purple-blue tint of his hand, she could guess the condition of his arm.

He doesn't even flinch when the shrill ringing of his phone goes off again where it's resting on the seat between his legs.

She reaches over and carefully plucks the phone off the seat and reads the caller ID.

Stefan.

She pushes the green button and puts the phone to her ear.

"Hey Stefan."

" _Bonnie? Hey, uh…what are you doing with Damon's phone? You didn't kill him did you?"_

He means it as a joke but Bonnie can hear the underlying worry in his tone.

She offers a chuckle but it comes out dry and flat.

"Uh, no. No. He's um. Inside the library following up on one of his own leads. He just left his phone in the car."

" _Oh really, what lead?"_

Bonnie shuts her eyes. She's really terrible at lying.

"I'll um. I'll let him tell you about it when he gets back. So what's up with you guys? Did you and Caroline find anything in Charlotte?"

She prays he lets her get away with the not so subtle subject change.

" _Oh, uh yeah."_ He say's after a beat. " _That's actually why I was calling. It turns out that Klaus was looking for his mother's sacred burial ground._

 _She's a witch!"_ Bonnie hears Caroline's voice on the other end of the line, somewhere in the background.

"Wait, witch?! How is that even possible?"

" _I have no idea."_ Stefan chimes back in. _"We're still a little fuzzy on all the details but apparently if he finds it, he doesn't need the werewolf and vampire sacrifices in order to complete the ritual."_

"You mean…he basically has everything he needs?"

" _Well, from what I can tell, it was a false lead. I don't think she's buried in Charlotte but I might have an idea of where. We're almost back home. I know it's late but let's meet up in the morning and we can talk about it in detail, yeah?"_

She glances over at Damon's sleeping from in the seat and she wants so badly to just tell Stefan everything. If someone else could just share this weight with her it would make it that much easier. But she promised Damon.

She exhales. "Yeah, sounds good. I'll tell Damon you called."

She disconnects the call and puts the phone in the cup holder between the seats and pushes down a little harder on the gas.

* * *

A dirt driveway leads up to a faded white Dutch Colonial style one story house with green shutters framing the four windows on the front. Three cracked cement steps lead to a small porch landing and a small archway frames the wooden, round top door that sits right in the center. A dull light can be seen flickering inside the left window in what Bonnie can only assume is a candle or lantern.

She eyes the house distrustfully from where she sits inside the car on the curb on the other side of the street.

There is one streetlamp at the end of the driveway while the rest of the tiny dead end road is swallowed in darkness.

She swallows hard and it's so quiet out here that she can hear the freaking hair growing in her ears. Her mouth is dry as cotton.

 _This is insane. How is this her life?_

A sudden coughing fit from Damon startles her and she gasps, nearly flying off the seat as she clutches her chest and tries to force her heart back down out of her throat.

" _Jesus, Damon!"_

He's still coughing, curled in on himself with his injured arm pressed against his stomach and the hand of his other arm pressed against his mouth.

Surprising herself, she reaches over and gently rubs his back in soothing circles and hopes it's comforting him.

When he finally stops coughing he stays put and just breathes for a second before he drops his hand and straightens again.

Her eyes go wide as they both notice the small puddle of blood he coughed up in the palm of his hand.

"Oh my God. You don't have much time left." She whispers.

"You don't think I could have some more of your magic blood, do ya?" His voice sounds like gravel and he wiggles his eyebrows in typical Damon fashion but in his current condition it doesn't really have the same effect. It's more adorably sad than anything.

She glares at him and he rolls his eyes.

"Lighten up, Bon. It was a joke." He says.

"Well I don't think it was very funny."

"Of course you –…" He pauses. And then his facial expression changes like he's just realized they aren't driving anymore.

He peers out of the front windshield before he ducks his head to peer out of Bonnie's window, eyeing the house she'd been trying to acquaint herself with while he was sleeping.

"This it?" He frowns. "Kinda creepy. _Exactly_ what I expected from a witches lair."

"Shut up, Damon. Your savior could be inside that house. I'd stow the snarky comments."

"Well what are we still doing out here then? Let's go meet our little friends."

And he's up and out of the car before she can even respond.

"Jesus, he's gonna get us both killed." She mumbles before getting out of the car, jogging to catch up to Damon who's strolling right up to the house like he's going to meet up with his long lost cousins.

" _Damon!"_ She whispers, grabbing his shoulder and halting him before he reaches the porch steps. "These are witches. You're a vampire. Don't you think I should do the talking?"

"Jesus, Bonnie. What do you think is gonna happen here, huh? Burning at the stake?"

"Well…Its not unheard of!"

He really doesn't want to fight with her. Not right now. So he leans back and crosses his arms.

"Okay then. What do you suggest, Bonnie?"

"Just…just trust me, alright?"

He looks like it literally pains him to keep quiet but he does. And instead he steps back, extending his arm. "After you."

"Thank you." She exhales a breath of relief as she ascends the short staircase.

She can feel the magic radiating from inside the house and its nothing like she's ever felt. It's strong and overpowering as it tingles over her skin. It doesn't feel evil or menacing, but rather strange and unfamiliar.

She glances back at Damon who's still standing at the bottom of the porch landing with both hands in his pockets and a weary look on his face.

She turns around and raises her hand, hesitates briefly before she knocks the brass doorknocker three times.

A faint clatter can be heard on the other side of the door like tin cans banging together but it stops suddenly after she knocks. All is quiet for a beat before shuffling feet can be heard coming toward the door.

When she hears the door locks being released she takes a full step back and catches Damon shuffle a half step toward her out of the corner of her eye.

The door creaks open a half inch and the faint glow of light she'd spotted from the window glows faintly from somewhere inside the house but does nothing in helping her make out the face that belongs to the eyes currently peering at her.

"Umm…h-hello?" Bonnie stammers.

"Who dares disturb me at this hour?"

The woman's voice is low but gritty and strong, carrying with it the slight twang of New Orleans born.

"Identify yourself, Stranger." The woman demands when Bonnie doesn't speak.

"Yes. Um. My name is Bonnie. And…and my cousin, Lucy told me about you and-…"

"I don't know no Lucy. You been lied to." The woman cuts her off.

"No. I mean yes, I know. But she's a Bennett. And see-…"

"A Bennett?" The woman sounds surprised.

She finally opens the door fully and steps out onto the porch directly in front of Bonnie looking her up and down.

She has a head full of thick, grey hair grown past her waist and pulled back into a simple braid. Her face is oval, her jawline strong and pointed chin. Her skin is dark and smooth and she looks to be in her late forties but the small lines around her mouth and eyes hint slightly older. Her left eye is grey and cloudy while the other is the color of desert sand. Her full lips are pulled down into a frown as she critically eyes Bonnie. She's at least an inch shorter than Bonnie but her presence is bigger than everything around.

"Bennett? As in The Salem Bennett's?"

"Yes ma'am." Bonnie nods.

Her eyes shift and she looks behind Bonnie. Her eyes darken as she eyes Damon who surprisingly hasn't made a sound this entire time.

"And who's he?" The woman's lip curls as she nods toward him.

Bonnie glances briefly behind her before she returns her attention to the woman in front of her.

"Um. That's Damon. He's actually the reason I'm here."

The womans eyes snap back to Bonnies, wide and shocked.

"What business has a witch with a demon?" She spits the last word like it tasted like acid on her tongue.

 _Okay. So she already knows he's a vampire. No Biggie This could be a good thing._ She thinks.

"Well. He's actually a friend of mine and I was hoping-.."

" _Friend?_ My child, no!" She steps back inside the house before she turns back to Bonnie inside the threshold. "Vampires are _no_ friends of ours. They…" She pauses and glares at Damon. "They are disgusting and _vile_ creatures, child. Forever and always. Now I suggest you get him off my property before I'm forced to do it myself."

And she goes to close the door.

"No! Wait! Please?" Bonnie stops the door with her hand. "Lucy said that your family and my family go way back and that my ancestors helped your ancestors escape down to New Orleans during the witch trials and that our families look out for each other."

She looks back at Damon who's so quiet and so still that he almost looks statuesque standing there.

When she turns back to face the woman, her eyes are pleading.

" _Please,_ ma'am. He's my friend okay? And he's gonna die unless you help us. Please?"

The woman sighs and shakes her head at Bonnie like she's let her down in the worst way but she finally steps aside and gestures for Bonnie to come in.

"Oh my God thank you _so_ much."

She turns to Damon and motions for him to join them.

"No child. The woman's voice goes stern and serious. " _You_ may enter. But the demon stays put."

Bonnie looks at Damon who's giving nothing away. She has no idea what he's thinking but she hopes its nothing stupid.

"Could you give me a second?" She whispers to the woman before she heads down the steps toward Damon.

"Are you gonna be okay out here?"

"Well it's not like I have a choice now is it, Bonnie?"

She glances back at the woman who's still standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, eyeing them both closely.

"Look Damon. It'll be okay. Okay? I'm gonna go in here and get this cure and everything's gonna be alright."

He exhales and shakes his head.

"You don't even _know_ this lady, Bonnie. And now you're gonna go inside her creepy little house alone in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere and you think everything's gonna be alright?" He sighs. "All this isn't even worth it."

She steps forward, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Damon. This is worth it if it'll save your life." She pauses. " _You're_ worth it, Damon." And she means it.

The poleaxed look on his face tells her he's as shocked at her statement and she is and she really doesn't know what's going on between them but she's not entirely sure she hates it.

She gives his shoulders a tight squeeze before she turns to head back up to the house.

He grabs her wrist before she makes it to the first step and pulls her around and back toward him.

"What?..."

He's looking at her but he can't figure out what to say because for the first time, he's actually… _looking_ at her and she's fucking _beautiful._

"I-…" He stammers, glancing up at the woman whose eyes are squinted suspiciously now.

He exhales and leans forward until they're nearly nose to nose and he feels the way her pulse increases as it thumps against his fingertips still wrapped around her wrist.

"Just be careful, okay?" He whispers.

She's momentarily stunned as she stares at his lips, her own mouth slightly parted.

The woman clears her throat behind them and she drops her eyes, he releases her wrist.

She nods to him before turning and heading back up the steps.

* * *

Despite the place only bearing the very bare minimum of décor, it still feels warm and cozy, welcoming despite the woman's hesitancy to let her inside the house which is basically one big room, separated only by the placement of the scarce amount of furniture that she does have.

The walls are white and bare, save for a few scattered wall sconces with candles burning in them.

An old, burnt orange sofa and small pine wood coffee table sit in the middle of the room, a lone burning candle sits in the center of the table on a white saucer.

There are two closed doors on the far-left wall and a giant bookshelf takes up the remainder of that wall space. The bookshelf stretches from wall to ceiling and looks as if it could hold thousands of books where she's got a couple hundred or so thrown haphazardly into the slots.

A round table sits against the right wall with two mixed matched ladderback chairs on either side. A ball of wool and knitting needles rest atop the table and a fleece blanket is thrown over the back of one of the chairs.

The table sits so that the entire street is visible from inside the house when one is sitting there and Bonnie imagines that the woman must have been sitting there watching her watch her house from the street.

Beside the table is a tiny stand alone, basin style sink and a small countertop area housing her one and only visible appliance, a hot plate. There is one cabinet underneath, which Bonnie assumes hold her dishes.

She wonders if the woman lives here by herself and if so, if she gets lonely. Or scared.

Bonnie thinks about running away at least a hundred times a day. Running away from everyone to find someplace where no one can find her. But she couldn't imagine being out here like this all by herself forever.

"Well, come child. Sit."

She turns to find the woman sitting on the floor cross legged in front of the coffee table. She's also placed a small, square corduroy floor pillow on the other side of the table, directly across from her and she motions for Bonnie to sit.

When Bonnie's taken her place on the floor across from the woman, she pushes the saucer holding the candle aside and brings up a pair of tarot cards from seemingly out of thin air.

She shuffles the cards as she eyes Bonnie closely.

"That demon out there." She nods to the door. "Why have you gone and gotten yourself tangled up in that?" The woman asks. And her tone no longer holds the scathing disdain it held when she'd spoken of Damon before.

Now she seems only curious.

"I don't know what you mean." Bonnie frowns, keeping her eyes on the woman's swift moving hands as she continues to shuffle the cards."

"I saw the way you moved around him out there. The closeness between the two of you. The way you did not flinch when he touched you. The look in his eyes. I know the look of love when I see it, child."

Bonnie's eyes snap to the woman's and she almost chokes on her tongue. " _Wh…what?"_ She almost squeaks. "No. Look. I am not sure what you _think_ you saw out there but Damon and I are just friends okay? Nothing more. And he most definitely does not _love_ me."

The womans eyes say that Bonnie is a fool but she stays quiet as she finishes shuffling the cards and spreads them out on the table.

"What are you doing with those."

"You're seeking my help are you not, child?"

"Yeah, but-…"

"You call yourself a Bennett but you don't know to consult with the ancestors before tampering with the balance?" She tilts her head and looks Bonnie over with critical eyes.

"Um-…"

"You're fresh." The woman's eyes widen. "Your magic still smells innocent, yet your energy is a force I haven't felt in ages. You haven't even begun to tap into your power. Ohhh and power you have, child." She pauses. "You poor thing. How have you gotten tangled up in something of this magnitude so young?"

"What do you-…"

"That demon out there. He's dying, is he not? And you're here tamper with the powers that be. You want to defy fate." Her tone holds no question.

"How…how do you know all of this?"

"This is a reading, my child." She shakes her head. "You have so much to learn, my dear." She extends both hands across the table, palms up. "Now place your hands in mine. Palm down."

And when Bonnie complies, she continues.

"First. I will channel your energy and your aura and once our mediums have been introduced, I may conduct your reading."

Bonnie nods her understanding.

"Now. Close your eyes, my child."

The woman starts to chant her spell, quick and low and Bonnie's not even sure she's saying real words until she starts to feel a warm tingling in her fingertips and she knows her magic is being called forth as the tingling feeling spreads up her arms and throughout her body.

"Breathe, my child." The woman whispers. "Open yourself up and seek out my energy as well."

Bonnie does her best to breathe in and out. Relax. Focus.

This is so weird.

The woman begins her chanting once more and Bonnie tries her best to concentrate and follow her instructions.

"You may open your eyes now, child."

When she does, the woman now has a faint white glow surrounding her form and Bonnie gasps. "Is that your…?"

"My aura, yes. You've begun to awaken your magical essence and with practice and time. You will be a force to reckon with, my dear."

"But how do I learn?" Bonnie wonders.

And for the first time, the woman smiles. "You're eager, child. You have fire. But patience is of great importance. In time, child."

The woman refocuses her attention on arranging her cards on the table.

"Now. Shall we get to the reason you are here?"

Bonnie nods.

"If the ancestors grant it, I shall give you what you need to save your friend. If they do not, you must leave and your friend must accept his fate and _you,_ my dear, mustn't go tampering with it on your own or there may be grave consequences. Are we clear?"

Bonnie swallows hard, nods her agreement.

The woman gathers up all the tarot cards and stacks them back into one pile on top of the table, then flips the top card over.

"Ah. The first card represents a topic I have already discussed with you. Focusing more on you. Honing in on your magical gift and perfecting it. You waste too much of your energy on others and not nearly enough time on yourself. That type of behavior leads right to a grave, my dear. Beware."

Bonnie has known this fact for far too long and yet she continues to ignore it in favor of making everyone else's life better. She intends on changing that very soon.

The woman flips over another card.

"My, my." She looks up at Bonnie, eyes slightly widened, mischief playing deep in her eyes. "This is quite peculiar."

"What is it?"

"This card represents your unconscious emotions. Emotions that you've buried, whether purposefully or otherwise." She pauses and grins. "This is also a topic I discussed with you briefly. You have feelings for that demon. And they are far more than friendly."

Bonnie's mouth drops.

"No. That can't be right." She looks up at the woman. "That's not true!"

The woman smiles again. "The cards don't lie, my dear."

And with that, she uncovers another card and Bonnie hears the woman make a small surprised noise in the back of her throat.

Bonnie groans internally and she really doesn't want to know.

"Now _this_ is a surprise." Her voice taking on a tone of awe as her fingertips brush over the face of the card. "I haven't seen anything like this in all of my 300 years."

"Did you…did you just say _300?_ "

The woman chuckles. "Well don't sound so shocked, my dear. Witches are of the most powerful beings on the planet and over the centuries we've learned a thing or two. Extending our life expectancy being one of them, obviously. You'll learn in time, my dear. Now focus."

She points down to the card. "This card is the card of Twin Souls."

"I don't know what that means." Bonnie frowns.

"Have you ever heard the term…soul mate, my dear?"

"Um, yeah, but…" and her eyes widen when she realizes what the woman means. "Are you trying to tell me that me and Damon…Damon and me…. we're… _what?_ "

"Believe it or not, dear, I'm as shocked as you are." The woman says. "Usually it is like souls that choose to join into one. Two humans. Two witches." She continues. "But never have I seen the soul of a witch and a vampire intertwine."

"But... _how?_ Why? I… _what?"_

How in the hell is Damon her soulmate? They literally hated each others guts a day ago. And now he's her soulmate? This lady is insane.

"Again I say. The cards don't lie, my dear."

The woman gathers up her cards and stands, Bonnie follows her lead.

"The good news is that the ancestors have granted me the permission to help you, child." She pauses. "The bad news is that now you're going to have the chance to acknowledge and explore those buried feelings you have for that demon." She grins. "Wait here."

And with that she disappears behind one of the closed doors on the far left wall while Bonnie stands in the middle of a strange room and feels her whole world get turned upside down.

 _Damon is my soulmate?_ She thinks.

That doesn't even sound natural. It sounds impossible. She wonders if it's some kind of weird sick lesson the ancestors are trying to teach her about being too invested in helping the vampires. Either way, she doesn't have to let this weird psychic reading come to pass, does she? Of course not. She's got free will and she's decided that Damon is not her soul mate.

So there.

The woman reemerges holding a small glass jar and a thick, leather-bound book.

"This is your flower, my dear. And this book contains your spell. Now hurry. Your demon doesn't have much time left."

She piles the items in Bonnies arms and shuffles her toward the door.

Damon stands and turns when Bonnie finally emerges from the house and he breathes a heavy sigh of relief that she appears unharmed. He nearly chewed his arm off just to have something else to distract him from worrying sick over her being in there alone with that woman. He'd tried to use his vampire hearing to spy on them but the woman apparently put some kind of privacy spell over the house.

Old bat.

"Drive safely, my child." The woman says from her doorway. "I'm sure you two have much to discuss." She grins and nods her goodbye before shutting her door.

Damon frowns down at Bonnie as she skips down the porch steps and right past him.

He follows closely behind. "What the hell is she talking about."

"Nothing. Lets go, you're running out of time." She throws over her shoulder as she continues her way to the car.

* * *

The nearest motel to them was another hour outside of town and by the time they'd arrived, Damon had been reduced to a moaning, shivering, delirious mess. He'd been moaning and mumbling about the war and about Stefan. He kept apologizing to some Enzo person and he'd thrown up so much blood that the entire front of his shirt was sticky with it.

It was nearly three in the morning and there was no one inside the little office settled in the center of the parking lot so she parked the car on the far side of the building and rooted around in her purse for a hairpin.

The motel was an old ancient building that still used real keys instead of keycards so it would be a piece of cake to pick the lock. If she's lucky they'll only be there for a couple hours, tops, to do this spell and get out of there before the morning desk clerk arrived for work.

She hops out of the car and makes quick work of the lock. She probably could've kicked the door in, it was so flimsy.

She loads all her supplies and her spellbook into the room before going back out for Damon. He was passed out in the passengers seat but startled awake when she'd opened his door.

"Huh?" He pops up and wipes his eyes. "Where are we?"

She ducks down so she can loop his uninjured arm around her shoulders to help him out of the car and he goes willingly.

"We're two hours outside of Mystic Falls. I got us a place to set up the spell and then you should be good as new."

When she's finally got him standing up straight and out of the car she kicks the door shut with her foot and starts steering him to the door. He's trying his best to help her carry his weight but his legs don't work anymore.

"I'm sorry, Bonnie." He whispers.

"Shhh. It's okay, Damon. Let's just get you healed."

The reversal spell was a bitch to translate but after forty five minutes, Google on her phone, and two of her Gram's grimores, she finally had the translation figured out.

She combined the ingredients in the empty ice bucket on the nightstand and chanted the incantation.

She could feel Damon's eyes burning a hole in the back of her head where he was laying on his back on the bed, now shirtless, but she did her best to ignore him while she finished the spell.

Once the incantation is finished, she grabs one of the complimentary plastic cups from the table and pours the liquid inside until its full to the rim.

It's thick and black like tar and it smells like rotten eggs and she is so glad she won't be the one drinking it.

"Okay. I think we're done." She says and he sits up a little more, resting his back against the headboard when she approaches and takes a seat on the bed next to his hip.

He smiles, small and sad, taking the cup from her hands and eyeing the liquid.

It hits him suddenly that he's sitting here with a cure for a werewolf bite that would have killed him. He would have been dead in the next hour or so if Bonnie hadn't gone through hell and back to get this for him. He has done absolutely nothing to deserve the amount of unflinching kindness she's shown him over the past day. She'd told him he was worth it. More than once. And she'd meant it.

Outside of his brother, no one has ever sacrificed for him the way she has done and if this cure does work, that means Bonnie gave him his second chance and he's gonna make sure he spends every moment making sure she knows how grateful he is for that.

"Well? What the hell are you waiting for? Drink up." She says, tapping him on his leg.

He glances at her briefly before he sits the cup on the nightstand, leaning forward until they're eye to eye. A mere hairsbreadth of space between them.

He licks his lips. "Bonnie, listen. In case this doesn't work, I just need to get a few things off my chest."

"What are you talking about, Damon? It _will_ work."

"Bonnie, please. I need to say this, okay?"

She nods and he can see that her eyes have gone guarded.

"I don't think you realize what you've done for me here. I mean, like you said, I put a lot of work into pushing people away and keeping them at a distance. But you're _so stubborn,_ Bonnie Bennett."

He smiles when he hears her chuckle.

"You're so stubborn and you broke down all my walls and recognized all my tricks and called me out on all my shit." He continues. "And I just want to say thank you. Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for fighting for me. And thank you for helping me realize that I'm worth it."

She smiles and he can't help returning it. "You're welcome, Damon." She whispers.

He lets his eyes drop to her lips before he returns her gaze.

"And… I also wanted you to know that I am crystal clear and of complete and sound mind when I do this…

He leans forward slowly, giving her time to stop him if she wants to.

He hears her startled intake of breath as it finally clicks in her mind what he's about to do and at first, he thinks she will stop him.

Never in a million year would he have imagined that she'd close her eyes and slide her hands up to his shoulders, holding on, guiding his mouth to her own and when his lips press to hers, she opens for him immediately.

He kisses her slow and deep, curious and exploring as he uses his tongue to part her lips and she moans low and wanting as her hands slide up to the sides of his neck and into the hair and the nape of his neck. He groans and he leans in more, sucking on her tongue and eating at her lips.

It's gone dirty now, and urgent and he knows they gotta stop so he pulls back just enough so that their lips are no longer touching but still well within each others space.

Their breathing is ragged and heavy and he can hear her heart hammering in her chest.

"Wow…" She whispers.

"Yeah…" Is all he can come up with at the moment, leaning back and reclaiming the cup off the nightstand.

He eyes the liquid for a beat before he raises it in the air in toast. "To second chances."

She smiles. "To second chances." She repeats.

And with that, he downs the entire cup.


	6. History Repeats

**Hey Guys! You still out there? I have a gift for you :-)**

 **Please keep in mind that although I do use a lot of references to the show, this is a story entirely my own so the rules as you know them may not apply here.**

 **Please rate and review. Offer suggestions! I love feedback.**

 ***Disclaimer: These beautiful people do no not belong to me.**

They are all scattered in various places throughout the Salvatore living room listening to Stefan recap their trip to Charlotte.

Caroline is sitting cross legged on the big red cocktail ottoman in the center of the room with Tyler beside her while Stefan paces back and forth behind them.

Damon is hovering in the rooms entryway and Bonnie can feel his eyes burning holes in the side of her head while she purposefully ignores him where she's curled up on the armchair on the other side of the room trying her damndest to pay attention to what Stefan is saying.

She'd kissed Damon last night, well technically it was early this morning but that just makes it all the more clear in her mind.

The way his breath came out in short, shuddered bursts when he started to lean toward her and then the way his breathing stopped completely when he realized she was going to let him.

The confusion and lust and…something else just barely hidden behind the mischievous glint she'd seen in his eyes before they dropped to her lips and the way he was trembling when she slid her hands up to rest on his shoulders, guiding him to her mouth.

He was soft and tentative at first. Gentle in a way she'd never expect Damon to be with her. Slow and easy like he'd been asking for permission and when she'd slid her hands up to the sides of his neck and exhaled, he'd slipped his tongue in, deepening the kiss and explored her mouth greedily. Eating at her lips and making her moan.

The ride back to Mystic Falls had been nothing short of awkward. She'd sat in the passengers seat curled in on herself and faced out her window the entire time. He'd tried once to get her to talk about it and she'd refuted by simply turning up the volume on the radio before turning her gaze pointedly back toward the passing landscape. She'd heard him exhale loudly but thankfully he didn't try push the subject anymore.

So basically she's been pretending Damon doesn't exist in the hopes that he'll just forget the whole thing. Even though it's gonna be pretty hard for her to forget it herself.

They'd _kissed._

She'd kissed Damon and it was all she could think about.

She still can't _stop_ thinking about it now.

Her eyes jump to his involuntarily and sure enough his eyes are on hers. He's leaning against the wall, arms crossed and his gaze is heated, hungry. He absently licks his lips and she almost groans with the way they glisten in the wake of his tongue.

She runs her fingers roughly through her hair and slams her eyes back in Stefan's direction.

"There's some kind of relic or talisman that he's looking for." Stefan was saying. "It was supposedly buried with his mother, Esther, and if he gets his hands on it he doesn't need the full moon or the other sacrifices in order to complete the ritual."

Caroline and Tyler both grip each other tighter, Tyler rubbing Caroline's arm gently, no doubt remembering being chained up in the Lockwood cellar awaiting their deaths.

"Now from what we can tell, he didn't find whatever it was that he was looking for, which means we still have a shot at finding Elena alive." Stefan continued.

His eyes flick to Bonnies briefly, meaningfully, before he looks to the rest of the group and Bonnie frowns.

 _Wonder what that was about?_ She thinks.

"So.." Stefan claps his hands together, glancing at everyone in the room before continuing. "Everyone clear on the plan?"

"Yes." Caroline stands and straightens her skirt. "Tyler and I will scour every book, newspaper, and journal in the Lockwood library for anything hybrid curse related that his dad might have kept hidden."

"Yeah. I wouldn't be surprised if the man had a whole secret litter of wolf babies he never told us about." Tyler says as he rolls his eyes, standing with Caroline."

She levels him with an exhausted glare but makes no comment. She knows Tyler and his father never got along when he was alive and its really no use trying to change his mind about him now.

She laces their fingers together and looks to Bonnie. "You ready, Bon?"

"Yeah, let me just…" And as she moves to stand, Stefan cuts her off.

"Um…actually…Bonnie…?" And he actually sounds nervous.

This can't be good.

She pauses midway to grabbing her bag and turns back to Stefan in time to see him glance back at Damon where he's standing near the drink cart now, glass of bourbon hanging loosely between his fingers. He and Stefan share some secret conversation that only they understand and Bonnie cringes.

This _really_ can't be good.

"I was hoping that we…"

Damon clears his throat behind Stefan and Stefan closes his eyes briefly before rewording his sentence and continuing.

"I was hoping that _I…_ could talk to you for a sec."

She motions for Caroline and Tyler to go ahead without her, and by the way Caroline's eyes have gone suspiciously guarded, she's in on it.

"Okay." Caroline says quietly, skepticism coloring her tone. "Text me and let me know you made it home."

Bonnie smiles warmly at her best friend as Caroline gives one last suspicious look to Stefan and Damon before tugging Tyler toward the door.

When she hears the front door close, Bonnie exhales and reclaims her seat in the armchair. "Uh…yeah. Sure. What's up?"

And though she's looking at Stefan, Damon has at least part of her attention and she notices when he quietly tops off his glass and heads out of the room toward the stairs.

Stefan has a seat on the edge of the coffee table in front of Bonnie, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees so he can look her directly in the eyes.

Stefan has the most gentle emerald green eyes and his face is so angelic that you almost forget he's one of the most dangerous creatures on the planet. It's kinda creepy in a way.

He licks his lips before he continues. "Well. As you already know, Klaus is looking for a relic…one that would help him break his hybrid curse without the sacrifices."

He pauses while she takes it in.

She nods. He continues.

"As with anything involving the supernatural, magic is involved. And when magic is involved that means witches are involved."

Stefan has never been one to beat around the bush like this when he wanted to ask her for a favor. She knows that's where this is leading. She just doesn't know why he's acting so weird about it.

"Okay…so you need me to do some kind of spell for you or something?" She questions, just trying to hurry this along because she's really tired and feels the beginnings of a headache coming on.

Also, she can freaking _feel_ Damon listening in on her even though she can't see him.

Stefan looks down at his shoes and then glances back up at her through impossibly long lashes.

"Not…exactly…"

He stands and pulls a folded piece of paper from his back pocket before taking a half step closer to her and crouching down in front of her.

She's sure he hears her heartbeat pick up a notch because she notices his eyes grow impossibly softer like he's sad that she still gets nervous around him.

She thinks Stefan forgets that he's a vampire sometimes too.

He balances the piece of paper on her knee and patiently waits as she stares down at it.

"What is this?"

"Open it." He says and stands again, crossing his arms over his chest but not moving away.

She can feel his eyes boring into her as she slowly unfolds the wrinkled white piece of paper and when she reads the contents she lets out a small, shocked breath and looks up at Stefan, whose eyes have gone guarded and a little guilty.

"What the hell is this, Stefan?! She whispers harshly.

Written in Stefan's big block handwriting was her mothers name, Abigail Bennett, and an address in Atlanta scribbled underneath.

Now for all she knew, her mother was _dead._

Her father had told her that she'd overworked herself and become so consumed by her own magic that it had killed her. Similar to what had happened to her Gram's last year.

Her dad had told her that her mothers death was the reason he hadn't wanted her to start practicing. It was why he'd always made it seem like her grandmother was spouting some crazy drunk old lady babble when she'd tell Bonnie stories about her witch ancestors as a child.

But this?

Is this some kind of joke? She thinks as she stares angrily down at the name on the paper.

Why on _Earth_ would her father lie to her about her mother being _dead?_ No man would do anything like that to his own daughter…would he?

She's trembling now and her slight headache has turned into a full-blown migraine. She closes her eyes and crumbles the piece of paper and lets it drop to the floor.

Using her will, the ball catches fire and burns to dust on the floor next to her bag. She hears Stefan inhale a breath he doesn't need.

Before she realizes it, she has angry tears streaming down her face as she stands from the couch so fast that Stefan has to take a full step backwards to give her some space.

"What _is_ this, Stefan?" She asks again, her voice slightly above a whisper. Tears are still falling and she hates it.

"Okay, Bonnie…I know…just. Sit down please." He's stuttering as he motions for her to sit.

His eyes are pleading and sad and she knows he doesn't know the whole story.

He doesn't know her dad lied to her. He doesn't know how much this rips her up inside.

She's not even _mad_ at Stefan. Well…maybe a little.

But for the most part, the balled-up emotions in her chest are geared toward her father and its probably a good thing that he's out of town… _again…_ on a business trip because she's truly afraid of what would happen if he was in front of her right now.

Her mother is _alive?…_

And just like that, every ounce of energy seeps from her body and she feels herself crumbling.

Stefan is there in a flash to catch her before she hits the floor, gripping her around her waist and guiding her over to the sofa and sits down with her.

She's trying to force air into her lungs but there's not enough oxygen in here.

Distantly she hears Stefan shushing her. She can tell he's recently fed because she can feel the slight warmth bleeding through her shirt where he's got his hand on her back rubbing in gentle circles.

"Breathe, Bonnie…shhhh. Just breathe."

She forces her brain to focus on the sound of Stefan's voice and follow the direction of his words.

In…out…in…out…

"That's it…That's good." He exhales.

And she can't help noticing the relief in his tone.

He sits there quietly, waiting for her to gather herself. He's no longer rubbing her back but he's still just a touch inside her personal space. Sitting so that his knee brushes against her leg as he watches her closely. No doubt gauging her heartbeat.

She knows he'll sit there as long as it takes. The same way he had done when he'd come to her house and found her crying after her Grams had died. She will always appreciate him for that.

She and Stefan have never been friends, per se, but his compassion for others and his ability to see outside of himself and his own needs has gained him a bit of a soft spot in her heart.

"Would you like a drink?"

And he's standing by the drink cart now. Had she spaced out? She didn't even notice him get up.

"Uh. Yeah…make it a double."

He smirks.

"It has been that kinda day, yeah?" He says, doubling up on both their glasses before taking his seat next to her and hands her the glass.

She tips it to her mouth and winces as she feels the burn in her throat and all the way down to the pit of her stomach as the amber liquid settles.

She's never really been a bourbon girl but this will have to do for now.

She continues to sip until her body starts to tingle and buzz as the effects of the alcohol take over.

To say this has been a hell of a day is the understatement of the century but she's not certain there's a word to describe what she feels right now.

Her life is full of lies and secrets.

The town she calls home is full of lies and secrets.

She's sitting on the couch having a drink with one of the biggest kept secrets in Mystic Falls right now.

That almost makes her want to break out in hysterical laughter which means she's probably had enough.

She exhales and puts the glass down on the table in front of her before turning, bending one leg up on the couch so that she's facing Stefan fully.

His eyes have gone guarded again as he waits for her to speak.

She really doesn't know what to say. She's stuck between blurting everything out at once and saying nothing at all.

"Have…have you seen her?"

Stefan's shoulders relax and his face smooths out and he puts his glass on the table next to hers.

She guesses he probably thought she was gonna tear into his ass for doing this to her. Which…yeah, she kinda wants to. But it's like… number 50 on her list of Shit Storm Revelations for the day, so he's safe for now.

"Other than the photographs Caroline found online? No. I uh…I kinda figured you should know before we go digging up your relatives, you know?"

She looks down, chewing on her lip and picking at one of her fingernails.

She has pictures of her mom put away in a box under her bed.

Her father keeps a framed picture next to his bed of their wedding day.

She's always thought she looks more like her father. They both share the widows peak where their hairline dips just a little further down in the middle. The big almond shaped eyes and rounded face. The slightly crooked smile that she's always been just a little self-conscious about all came from her dad.

But her impossibly thick hair and green eyes? Those were a gift from her mother.

"And you're sure she's alive?" She says to her lap, eyes still downcast.

She hears Stefan exhale before he stands, grabbing their empty glasses and putting them on the tray underneath the drink cart.

"Well, that address in Atlanta is only two months old so yeah. It's a safe bet."

Her mother has been alive all this time and didn't even try to reach out to her.

She shakes her head and she can feel tears start to fill her eyes again. She turns to face forward, both feet dropping to the floor again and she buries her face in the palms of her hands.

 _Why can't she stop crying!_

"Hey, hey, Bonnie."

She hears the creak and groan of the coffee table as Stefan sits on it in front of her, placing his hands on her knees.

"Look. I know you thought your mom died a long time ago…and I. I don't really know the whole story and you don't have to explain that to me if you don't want to but…I can't imagine what this feels like and I can't pretend to…I…"

He cuts himself off when she finally brushes her hands roughly across her face to get rid of the tears before dropping them to her lap and looking him in the eyes. Her face feels overheated and her eyes feel puffy but she takes a deep breath and nods.

"It's fine, Stefan. I'm fine."

She knows she just told the biggest, fattest lie ever, and so does he. His face almost crumbles but he catches himself.

"I'm sorry, Bonnie…I'm so, so sorry." His fingers tighten on her knees, fingertips pressing little dents into the denim covering her legs.

"It was incredibly selfish of me to bring this to you all because I needed a favor. I know I allow my love for Elena to overshadow almost everything…your feelings included… and I can't apologize enough for that... Just say the word and we'll find another way."

And she knows it's true. She knows Stefan acts without thinking sometimes when love is involved. Mainly because she's been on the receiving end of that thoughtlessness most of the time.

But she also knows that he will respect her wishes. If she wants him to forget he ever found her mother and never bring her up again. He'll do just that.

She also knows that if she asks him to do that, she'd be giving in to her cowardice. She'd be asking him to do that because she doesn't want to know that her mother _chose_ not to come back to her. She wants to be able to make up some elaborate story in her mind about how her mother tried so hard every single day to make it back home but due to some impossible circumstances it couldn't be done.

She's afraid that if she knows the truth that she'll hate her mother and her father forever and then she'd be left with nothing.

She's sad.

She's afraid.

She's angry.

But she's no coward.

She's going to do this. Not for Stefan. But for her own sanity. And if it will help save her best friend on the way. Then all the more reason to see this through.

And right then and there, she makes up her mind.

"No. If this is our best lead then let's do it."

Stefan studies her. Doubt in his eyes.

"Bonnie…are you sure?"

She chuckles, sad and low. "No, actually. I'm confused and I'm terrified, and I'm angry and a mess of other emotions that I'm still struggling to sort out right now." She pauses, wipes the sleeve of her shirt over her cheek to catch another traitorous tear. "But I don't think I will be able to sort all that out without doing this."

Stefan bites his lip, squinting at her. Still unsure.

She covers his hands with her own where they're still resting on her knees.

"Stefan, I'll be _fine_ okay? _…_ now tell me the plan."

* * *

 _Back in the 10TH century Esther had become friends with a young witch named Ayana Bennett who was also known as The Healer and Esther's mentor at the time. She'd taught Esther how to use her magic and eventually Esther became one of the most powerful witches on the planet._

 _Ayana and Esther became so close, in fact, that she traveled with the family when they left Europe for America and settled in a little town that would eventually be known as Mystic Falls._

 _Their neighbors were werewolf warriors and Mikael, Esther's husband, would frequently help them in battle while Esther and Ayana stayed behind and tended to the village._

 _Esther grew lonely with her husband being away for such long periods of time and eventually took a liking to a young werewolf named Ansel and the two began an affair._

 _Apart from Esther and Ansel, Ayana was the only other person to know about Esther's infidelity and when Esther became pregnant with Ansel's child, it was Ayana who'd helped keep Esther's secret._

 _To keep Mikael from finding out about her transgressions, when Klaus was born Esther gave him a cursed pendant to wear around his neck to weaken him and prevent him from triggering his curse and for a time this worked._

 _Klaus had gotten through most of his childhood without a hitch until he and his little brother, Henrik, went sneaking through the woods one night during the full moon to watch the wolves turn._

 _Sadly, Henrik was killed by one of the werewolves and this sent Mikael and Esther into a panic and out of fear of losing her other children, Esther begged Ayana to turn them into indestructible beings._

 _Ayana, already familiar with the consequences of turning into one of these cold, undead beings, initially refused Esther. She'd tried to warn Esther and tried to make her understand that Nature would completely disown her and her family if she were to go through with this spell but Esther could not be persuaded._

 _And against her better judgement, Ayana completed the spell, creating the worlds first vampires._

 _She'd called on the power of the sun for life, the ancient white oak tree for immortality, and the power of her own blood to allow them to be reborn into this powerful new species._

 _The entire family, Mikael, Elijah, Klaus, and Rebekah, were all turned, apart from Esther who remained a witch._

 _They were stronger and faster than the wolves now but with every new strength, they were plagued with a new weakness._

 _The sun that granted them life would also burn them, forcing them to remain in hiding until nightfall. The vervain flower that grew at the base of the white oak tree prevented their mind compulsion, and the blood that had rebirthed them had also become the thing they'd be cursed to crave the most._

 _Their overwhelming bloodlust caused them to go on a murderous killing spree where they killed almost half of their werewolf neighbors._

 _This effectively started the lifelong feud between werewolves and vampires._

 _But not only that, upon Klaus making his first human kill, his werewolf curse was triggered, revealing his mothers secret._

 _Mikael grew so enraged at his wifes betrayal that he forced Ayana to suppress Klaus' werewolf gene by using a powerful binding spell and the blood of a Petrova Doppelganger to bind his wolf powers to a moonstone. Mikael then killed Ayana and Esther and whisked them off to bury them and the moonstone in a place where his bastard son would never find them._

 _Klaus and his siblings left their village shortly after that and from then on, Klaus had been trying to find a way to break the curse binding his wolf side so that he would be strong enough to hunt his father down and kill him to avenge his mothers death._

 _Eventually, Klaus got his hands on a spell similar to the one Ayana had bound him with over four centuries ago and then through manipulation and murder and six more centuries, he was able to procure the reversal spell to match._

 _Roughly, the spell translates to:_

 ** _God of the immortal_**

 ** _God of the beast_**

 ** _The sacrifice of both and so shall it be_**

 ** _Two become one, it is what they have made_**

 ** _As the hybrid is born, humanity shall fade._**

* * *

So naturally, when he'd caught wind of Elena, the next Petrova doppelganger to be born after Katherine Pierce, all bets were off and now they're all knee deep in supernatural drama.

Not only does everything supernatural tie back to witches…but it seems that it ties back to Bennett witches, specifically. Bonnie isn't surprised to find out that her ancestral line has been slave to vampires since the beginning of time.

Maybe it's some sort of Bennett family curse. She should really look into that.

"So how does my mother tie into all of this?"

"Well, as far as we knew, you were the only Bennett witch left of your line until we talked to the connect in Charlotte and he let slip that it was a Bennett witch who had helped Klaus' mother spell the relic that bound Klaus' curse. On a hunch, Caroline and I did some digging and found your mother."

So now Caroline's suspicious eyebrows make sense.

"We were hoping that with your mother's help…and yours, of course, if you're willing." Stefan continues. "Maybe we can find the moonstone and destroy it before Klaus can get his hands on it."

If they destroy the moonstone, Klaus will have to wait until the next full moon to perform his original spell and that will at least give them another 30 days to find a way to kill him.

"Well…how do you know my mom is willing to help? Apparently, she doesn't even give a crap about me, and I'm her daughter. What makes you think she gives a crap about a bunch of supernatural strangers?" She tries for careless sarcasm but fails miserably.

Stefan exhales and eyes Bonnie knowingly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Bonnie. I know this hurts and I know you're trying to put on a brave face but for once. Be selfish. You _deserve_ to be selfish."

He's standing at the drink cart pouring his third?...fourth drink, taking a sip before turning back to face her.

"None of us will hold it against you if you tell us all to go to hell."

She rolls her eyes and stands from the couch, making her way over to him. "Believe me, I have a few… _choice…_ words for all of you…" She plucks the glass tumbler from his fingers and finishes his drink for him before handing the glass back. "…but I'll get to that after we get my best friend back."

He smirks, looking down at the empty glass before placing it on the drink cart and grabs her wrist, tugging her into a hug, rocking her back and forth.

"Bonnie Bennett...we don't deserve you."

She smiles against his neck, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. "Damn right."

She hears him chuckle before he leans back to catch her eyes. "Thank you."

Her answering smile makes his eyes soften. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

* * *

When they pull up to her house she sees Damon casually sprawled out on her porch swing. Eyes still closed like he hadn't heard them coming from miles away. Her heartbeat stutters.

"You okay? Stefan asks, ducking to peer at his brother from Bonnie's passenger side. "Want me to drag him back home?"

"I'll be fine." She says, still not looking at him so he can't see the lie in her eyes.

He snorts and she turns to glare at him.

"Your heartbeat is telling a different story."

She groans. "Ugh, I _r_ eally hate that you guys do that."

"Gift and a curse." He shrugs.

She looks back over to Damon who still hasn't moved an inch. "But really though. I'll be fine."

"Your call."

She moves to take her seatbelt off and pops the door open. "Thanks for the ride."

He smiles. "Have a good night, Bonnie." He glances at his brother again. "Tell my brother not to forget he has a curfew."

She chuckles and gets out of the car. He gives her a wink before he pulls away from the curb.

After Stefan's headlights disappear around the corner she exhales and tells her heart to calm the hell down before she heads up to the porch.

She pauses when she reaches the landing and just stares while he still has his eyes closed.

He's dressed in a black t-shirt, stretched tight across his chest and loosening at the bottom where his waist tapers. He's got one arm resting behind his head so the shirt has risen just enough to expose a slither of smooth pale skin near the waistband of his black jeans which were definitely tailored just for him because they leave nothing to the imagination.

She bites her bottom lip.

He's got on his favorite pair of black leather boots, crossed at the ankles where he's lying down flat on his back looking like a contradiction against her purple and pink flowered porch swing, swaying lightly under his weight.

"The view is even better over here." He drawls, smirking when she startles at the sound of his voice.

He's finally opened his eyes and he's looking _into_ her with an intensity that is entirely Damon.

"How long have you been here?" She tries to sound irritated to hide the embarrassment of being caught ogling him… _again._

"I left right before Stefan revealed the _big news_." He does that thing with is eyes that has always made him seem slightly off kilter. "Figured I didn't wanna be around when you leveled the Boarding House."

His eyes rake her body slowly, possessively, and she shivers.

"But seeing as my brother is still undead…things didn't go the way I expected them to." He pauses and squints at her. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, Damon. I just want to go inside and…" She's already digging her keys from her bag.

"Hold on, Bonnie, wait." He sits up, dropping one foot to the ground to stop the swing from moving. "What's the rush?"

She concentrates on the keys fumbling in her fingers. "Huh? No. Nothing."

Jesus, Bonnie. She rolls her eyes inwardly. Exhales and looks at Damon.

"There's no rush, Damon. I'm just tired. That's all."

He tilts his head, lips pulling down slightly at the corners. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were avoiding me."

"Well you _do_ know better so you know that's not true."

"Good." He blinds her with a sudden, bright smile. Patting the space he'd made on the swing when he dropped his foot to the ground. "Have a seat. Let's catch up."

She hesitates. All she wants is a bath and a bed but if she denies him then she'll be proving him right. Yeah, she is avoiding him.

She eyes him from under her lashes and he's chewing on his bottom lip, masking a devious grin and tapping his long fingers slowly against the soft cushion.

She exhales, dropping her keys back into her bag and makes her way over to him.

She catalogs the way his eyes grow darker as the space between them dwindles and when she's standing directly in front of him, dropping her bag at his foot before taking a seat in the space he'd made for her, she notices he's got a white knuckled grip on the back of the chair.

She's staring out at the night before her and twiddling her fingers in her lap, thankful for the curtain of hair that has fallen over her shoulder, blocking him from view.

"Hmmmm…" he hums low in his throat. "So I was right…" and she can hear the smile in his voice though she still refuses to look at him. "You _are_ being an avoidy avoider."

She rolls her eyes. He is such an idiot.

"Damon…"

"So we kissed, Bon?" He cuts her off. "Get over the shock of it already so we can do it again."

And he's practically whining.

Her eyes snap to his, the pure shock of his words making her forget her "no eye contact" rule.

" _What?"_ She whispers.

His eyes drop to her lips and he licks his own.

"Damon…look…" and she waits until his eyes meet hers before continuing. "I know that what happened that night was one of those stupid _almost_ death bed things that people tend to do because they don't think they'll have another chance to do it.

He tilts his head. Eyebrows crumpling, humor fading from his eyes and being replaced with confusion and barely restrained…anger?

"Seriously, Damon. Let's just forget it happened, okay?

His mouth is parted slightly and he's looking at her like she's the biggest moron on the planet and she's just done with this whole night.

She bends down and scoops her bag off the ground. "Goodnight Damon."

Before she can get too far he finds his voice again. "Bonnie, _wait."_

He jumps up from the swing and wraps one hand around her wrist and turns her before she reaches the door and she jerks her arm from his grip like he'd burned her. She steps back and runs rough fingers through her hair.

"Bonnie, what _is_ this? Huh? Did I cross a line or something? Because I gave you plenty of time to stop me if you didn't want it."

She cuts her hand though the air, begging him to just… _shut up._

"Damon, _please._ I just. I can't _deal_ with this right now, okay?"

Damon scoffs. Shakes his head.

"You know what? I really don't get you. You laugh in the face of any monster, ghost, or ghoul thrown your way. You have a solution to _every_ problem." He pauses. "But when it comes to your love life you shrivel up like a scared kitten."

"My love life? Damon...we shared _one_ kiss. There is nothing to talk about."

"Well maybe _you_ didn't have anything to say." He says jamming a finger in her direction. "But did you ever think that maybe I did?"

Well…no… she didn't, actually.

She exhales. "Okay, fine. What do you have to say?"

He steps back into her personal bubble, crowding her and searching her eyes.

"Look. I meant what I said Bonnie. What you did for me is something I've never had before. I've had more people risk their lives to try and kill me than to try and save me." He chuckles, soft and sad. "But you…" and he searches her face, committing it to memory. "…despite everything I've done…you did that for me."

He steps impossibly closer to her, placing his palms on either side of her face. His long fingers slide into the hair at the back of her head and she shivers.

"Maybe your intentions with me were self-serving. Maybe it was something else entirely. But whatever it may be…I'm alive right now because of you."

His eyes keep dropping to her mouth and her breath is hitching in her throat.

"I know I've done nothing to deserve this, I mean. I…I don't deserve _you"_

That's the second time a Salvatore has said that to her tonight. She's gonna get spoiled.

"Just…stop running away from me. Stop avoiding me. Give me a chance to _earn_ your friendship."

"Friendship?" Bonnie repeats skeptically.

Damon drops his hands from her face, his humor returned as he smirks.

"Well…I was hoping for a few _benefits_ as well" He says, waggling his eyebrows.

She can't help the small surprised laugh that escapes her. "You're such a pig."

"Naturally." He smiles. "Now come on, Bennett…" He grabs her hand, laces his fingers with her own and guides her back to the swing. "…tell me about your day."

He reclaims his seat, mirroring the position he had earlier and pulling her down to sit between his legs, her back to his chest.

She's stiff and tense against him and he runs his hands up and down her arms slowly. "Come on. Relax, Bon. Just a couple of buds hangin' out." He whispers against the shell of her ear.

She bites her lip against a grin. "Yeah…that's exactly what this feels like." But she relaxes against him anyway, allowing her back to relax against his chest as she leans her head against his shoulder.

"See. It's a lot easier when you stop fighting it." He says, still caressing her arms with his fingertips.

She snorts but stays quiet, closing her eyes and allowing herself to enjoy the warm night air. The firmness of his chest against her. His cool breath brushing against the sensitive part of her neck. The feel of goosebumps prickling on her arms where his fingers leave burning cold trails.

"I was against the whole thing, you know?" He says low against her ear.

She hums in question.

"The whole…digging up dead beat mom thing."

She exhales heavy. "Damon…"

"I know, I know…you don't wanna talk about it." He says. "But I know a little something about Abandoned Child syndrome myself." He exhales and chuckles. "Being brother to Saint Stefan will drive a man crazy."

"Yeah right." She turns her head so that her forehead is pressed against his cool throat making her shiver. "You're no angel."

"Hey!" Then he pauses. "Okay fine…but I could be."

"Yeah…maybe…" She says quietly. Her breath is coming out slower now, even, and he can tell she's minutes from drooling on his John Varvatos t-shirt.

He almost wants to just keep her here on the porch.

Although it's only been a few hours since he's been able to be this close to her, touch her…it feels like ages.

He should have known she would freak out after the kiss. He can't deny that he'd even freaked just a little bit after. He hadn't even planned it. He had just been sitting there in bed, watching her stir up his life saving concoction and couldn't help the wave of affection that had fallen over him.

She'd been exhausted and frustrated but she never stopped.

And then she'd sat down on the bed next to him and handed him the rest of his life in a plastic motel cup and his fingertips brushed against hers as he grabbed the cup from her and a rush of desire hit him like a train.

She smelled like cinnamon and honey and…and sex because they hadn't showered since he'd pinned her against Ric's living room wall and he'd wanted nothing more in that moment than to live and then it hit him.

What if he hadn't lived? He'd gotten a whiff of her heat and he'd tasted her blood and he was greedy. He wanted to taste her lips too.

And so he did.

And she'd let him

And he wanted more.

He looked down at her and she's snoring lightly, head tipped away from him now so that the long line of her neck is visible to him now.

He drops his nose to the crook of her neck and just inhales and she moans low from the throws of sleep.

He's so fucked…


End file.
